


The Whistle of Wind

by Hubot97



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, May update tags as I go on, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7849759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hubot97/pseuds/Hubot97
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ages have gone by since Arthur's passing, and centuries of waiting have taken their toll on Merlin. Arthur told him: "Don't ever change." When Merlin experiences his past in a way he did not expect, will he live up to his promise?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The empty feeling in his stomach began to irritate Merlin a little. It hadn't been long since he had last eaten, at least, he didn't think so. Checking his watch, he realised breakfast was several hours ago and he had been lost again in the words before him. Sighing, Merlin snapped the book shut with one hand and stood up with a groan, stretching his muscles as he did so.

It was growing chilly in his apartment so with a flash of his eyes, flames ignited at the fireplace. He felt if it weren't for the temperature, he could have fallen straight to sleep. But Merlin was careful not to simply sleep his days away, like he had done before.

Rubbing the sleeves of his woolly jumper to gain some warmth, he made his way into the kitchen. The room was not well illuminated; the grey sky outside did nothing to light up the room, but Merlin hardly noticed the lack of light. Heading to his cupboard, he quickly scanned the collection of tins, looking for something quick and simple. He eventually chose some simple baked beans without much enthusiasm, and lit his gas cooker with another flash of his eyes.

While the beans were slowly heating up, Merlin leaned against the counter, staring out the window. The view consisted mostly of brick, industrial buildings, not a busy part of London. There were times when he could handle the bustling streets below, being a good distraction, but sometimes he longed for some peace and quiet, and then eventually solitude when he would move even further away, back into the wilderness. But he felt he ought to stick around for a bit longer.

The main reason for this happened to walk into his apartment at that very moment, with a jangle of keys.

He didn't bother turning his head as he heard her approach; it hadn't been that long since Merlin had seen her – was it a few days? Or maybe even weeks.

"You look as delightful as ever," came the sarcastic drawl. He decided to watch her busy herself putting away groceries she felt the need to buy. Of course, what she bought was always fresher than his choice in food but it made no difference to Merlin what he ate. "I was in the neighbourhood; thought I'd visit," she muttered as she stored some chicken in the freezer. "Thought we'd catch up over dinner."

"Catch up? Didn't we catch up last week?" Merlin replied, rubbing his eyes with weariness.

She stopped what she was doing and gave him a somewhat irritated look. "It's been six months."

"Oh," Merlin said with a hint of apology. He owed her that at least.

Perhaps he looked even more weary than usual because she seemed to suddenly give him her full attention. "Listen, I know you don't always care what's going on with me. But I have exciting news." Her face broke out into a smile as if she'd suddenly lost the composure she'd been carefully maintaining since she'd arrived.

Merlin wasn't sure that what he would deem exciting was on the same level as hers but he merely raised his eyebrow, took the beans off the heat and left. She seemed to lose her excitement a little, but only a little, and she quickly finished putting the rest of the groceries away before following Merlin into his living-room.

She seemed almost disapproving at him eating the beans from the pot rather sloppily but he really couldn't care about it. She was waiting for him to meet her gaze but when he gave her not even a glance, she sighed in defeat.

"So… I thought you might like to know that the others and I have noticed certain… anomalies," she told him, choosing her words carefully. "Magical ones. Certain spikes of pressure and… Surely you've noticed?"

Merlin paused his eating and laid the spoon in the pot. "They happen all the time, Anna. I hope there's more to this."

A little crease appeared between her eyebrows but she seemed to maintain her patience. "Not this powerful or concentrated at the same place," she continued. "The others didn't seem to think much of it and I was careful not to tell them anything. But they seem to be concentrated around Glastonbury."

Merlin stared into his pot.

"That's where it happened, isn't it?" Anna asked, a glint of intrigue in her eyes. "Have you been there lately?"

He began to stir the beans with the spoon, losing his appetite. He couldn't look up at her as all he could feel was irritation, bordering on the edges of anger.

Anna seemed to lose a bit of her excitement at Merlin's lack of reaction. "Don't you understand what this means?" she asked, timidly.

Merlin stood abruptly, entering the kitchen and dumping the pot, half-full with beans, into the sink. He grasped the edges with a steel grip, staring out the window. He marvelled at the anger coursing through him; he hadn't been this animated in a while. He could almost thank her.

He could hear her unsure footsteps behind him. It was times like these, when her gap of understanding was so apparent, that it reminded him how young she really was. He let her have a taste of his life and she acted like she understood; was so sure she did. It made him forget that the length of time between Anna and Camelot was far too long for them to connect, for her to empathise with him. She was almost like all the others, and if it weren't for the fact she was his responsibility, he sometimes thought he would be quite happy never seeing her again.

"What's wrong?" she asked, attempting to exude confidence but he could hear the impatience, the longing for a mere simple conversation between them. He hadn't managed to do that with her for a long time. She left and became invested in the world instead of his stories and he simply couldn't care about everyone else.

Sighing again, he surmised he should at least reply or she might never go away. "It won't be what you think," he said with absolute surety.

"Perhaps," she agreed. "But why don't we find out? Surely you're interested? If magic is acting strangely in that area, surely you would want to investigate?"

"I _have_ ," he assured her. "Thoroughly and plenty of times before. It's never him."

There was a slight pause. "I don't understand why you wouldn't want to find out."

He whipped around facing her. "Because – Anna! If I go there one more time with even the tiniest inkling of hope…!" He clenched his forehead with his hand. He hadn't raised his voice in so long. "I can't do that again," he muttered, eyes closed. He needed to calm himself, sink into the mentality where time moved fast, where he could function and not lament.

Anna gazed at him with sympathy and if he had been younger he might have lashed out at her again for it. "I understand it must be hard. But you said he would return. It has to happen eventually."

Merlin chuckled in derision. Yes, it had to happen but it had already been over a thousand years. Why shouldn't he wait a thousand more? He was almost convinced it would happen after he forgot all the tales of Camelot and he became useless, because he could feel himself reaching that point, slowly but steadily. Sometimes he tried to shake himself of his cynicism, to rejuvenate his longing for the prophesied return, but feeling that was too akin to his hopes being dashed in previous years, when he was almost sure _he_ had to return, would wait beside the Lake of Avalon with his eyes scanning any sign of movement. He still held Camelot in his mind but they were now stories, ones he told to Anna and he found himself almost on the brink of disbelief about them. It felt too good to be true to have a purpose to this long, drawn-out life. Maybe the whole thing was merely a fabrication to make himself feel better.

He realised he hadn't spoken for a significant period of time when Anna cleared her throat and continued. "Listen, I can investigate on my own. I just thought that if I told you-"

"What?" he interrupted. "That I would suddenly become a loving father?" He almost laughed.

She just stared at him, eyes full of hurt. "No. I just hope that if it happens," Anna spoke, her eyes suddenly turning to stone. "That I'd see at least half the man you were in your stories."

She stormed out.

Merlin, sighing again, glanced at the now cold beans in the pot. He gave some thought to what he could do for the rest of the night, but spent so long deciding, he ended up just going to sleep. His mind needed rest anyway, even if his body wasn't weary – there was now a constant tiredness and ache to his bones.

* * *

He was reading once more, a few weeks after he'd last spoken to Anna. A faint ringing interrupted the passage – one he'd read numerous times – but he still huffed a little at the distraction. He belatedly realised it was his mobile, which was stuck inside his couch.

Merlin considered ignoring it but it was probably Anna, seeing as how she was the only one with his number. With a sigh he answered and mumbled a greeting.

"Father," came the cool voice, although he sensed a hint of suppressed anticipation.

"What is it?"

"I thought you should know. I managed to anticipate one of those magical anomalies. It was… weird."

He gave a grunt for her to continue.

"It's hard to explain. I really think you should see for yourself."

Once again, Merlin sighed.

"It's definitely of importance," she assured him. "Even if it's not to do with… you know. It's… strange."

"Okay, I get it, it's strange," he muttered. "I can meet with you…?"

"Tomorrow."

"Fine, text me when and where," he replied, hanging up.

At least it'd be a break from routine.

* * *

Storming into the café, he caught the sight of Anna's bright blonde hair in the corner. Clenching his teeth, he moved past the youngsters and sat down with a slight glare.

"You had to meet me here?" he growled.

"I thought it might do you some good," she replied, clearly not intimidated.

Merlin composed his face, masking the irritation when it obviously didn't bother her. He was definitely in an 'anti-people' phase. "Now what did you want to tell me?" he asked, wanting to get it over with.

Just as Anna opened her mouth to respond, a male barista appeared with a tray of coffee. They engaged in some mindless chatter Merlin blocked out but even doing that it was obvious that the barista definitely fancied her. He could almost roll his eyes but Anna didn't seem to move into the realm of flirting herself. He just had to ask about Merlin though.

"Oh, this is my brother, Leon," Anna explained to the barista, giving him a wide polite smile.

Merlin attempted the same but only managed an awkward half-smile.

The barista seemed to sense he was unwanted and quickly went back to work, leaving Anna with a wide grin.

Merlin gave Anna a hard stare.

"Sorry about that," she quickly said, although she clearly wasn't sorry.

He shook his head, staring into his coffee. "He really likes you." He wondered how he should feel about that. A father should feel protective about their daughter in this case, shouldn't they? But Anna was certainly old enough to handle herself and he couldn't bring himself to care that much.

"Really?" Anna seemed genuinely surprised. "I see him a lot when I come here. I thought he was just being polite."

Merlin almost rolled his eyes. At least she didn't question his judgment on it, she knew how well he could read people. "Anyway," he said, clearing his throat. "You were saying…?"

Anna took a sip of her coffee. "Yes… I noticed a pattern in the occurrences. I had to actually travel there to find it, me and a couple of friends."

Merlin knew about Anna and a few of her magical friends, but they were more superstitious rookies than anything else, incapable of learning more than flashes of visions and instincts. He was sure that Anna hadn't even shown them her true potential. But if she felt she could fit in somewhat, he wasn't about to object.

"It was obvious where they were occurring; I could feel the magic in certain spots around the place, some in the town and some in the wilderness. It felt powerful."

Merlin nodded for her to continue. Sometimes magic was randomly concentrated in certain places, but most of the time it was put there by someone else. If there was a pattern to it, he could bank on the latter.

"It seems to be going round in a spiral, with a certain distance between each one," she explained, but she grew hesitant with what she had to say next. "If it continues… It looks like it'll end at Glastonbury Tor."

He nodded wearily, still staring at his coffee. He didn't have the energy to have this conversation again so when she didn't continue, he impatiently waved his hand at her.

"I mapped it out. It's happening very slowly. I estimate another few months before it reaches the centre. But it's what happens at these sites that's strange."

"I see." He looked up at her when she didn't continue. "What happens?"

"I told you, I have to show you," Anna insisted rolling her eyes. "Let's finish our coffee first and catch up."

Merlin took a sip from his coffee and carefully set it down, tempted to slam it. He wasn't blind, this meeting had a dual purpose. He thought he'd made it perfectly clear that he couldn't be to her what she was expecting, but she just couldn't resist. A figure like him had an interesting past and he was her connection to that past. She would probably keep in contact with him the rest of her life, no matter how indifferent towards her he appeared.

But although he would never be the first to make contact, he would remain available for her to do so. He owed her that much at least, and if anyone understood a lonely existence, it was him. He could understand her need to relate to another magical being.

He listened to her prattle on about her new job and her progress on her spell book. Magic didn't come naturally to her as it did with him, but it was present as she grew older, in a way it wasn't with most people in the modern age. Merlin hadn't met another magical being like Anna for centuries. At least with this subject, he could offer some advice and genuine interest.

She didn't bother asking him about his own life, as she knew that it was pretty much the same all the time. Changes, if they ever occurred, happened slowly. If he decided in a change of venue, he took a long time to do so. It was merely force of habit; Merlin had learned not to rush things a long time ago. The sooner he completed anything, the longer his life seemed to have left to go. It was only if he had regular contact with people (which was rare) that he'd decide things a little quicker – like how much to age. Otherwise, he was perfectly content with remaining rather young looking. Sometimes he would allow himself to grow to be an old man, watch as people took him more seriously as his age grew until they declared him senile. He would feel rather comfortable with his hair white and skin dry and wrinkled, as it was the closest form to his real age. But he would soon grow tired with the ache and slow body. He would never gain release. The only thing he could do was to turn young again. At the moment, he didn't look much older than Anna.

As Anna finished her last drop of coffee, it was finally time to leave. He couldn't get out of there fast enough. As it turned out, he also had to follow her through the busy street to get to her own apartment so she could use her car. He knew she liked to drag out whatever time they spent and she liked to remind him that it shouldn't bother him with his vast supply of patience. He had to agree; he had plenty of patience to last him through decades of doing nothing but lately he found he had little to spare when involving people, even Anna. He knew it was just a phase which would pass. Merlin wasn't as opposed to them when Anna was born but it was bad timing, he supposed. If she wasn't around, Merlin would have definitely been living in seclusion for another few decades or so by now.

He felt marginally better in the car and they escaped the busier parts of the city. In fact, he would've been perfectly content riding the whole way there in silence except Anna felt the need to fill it. It became easier when Merlin realised she wasn't expecting him to speak, just to listen.

She talked more than Merlin felt he had in ten years, but he found it wasn't mindless chatter. It was the only time Anna had to tell him things he would know if he was around her more, like how she went to a restaurant a few months ago and discovered her favourite dessert, or how she learned that she was terrible at ice-skating. He found that he didn't actually mind listening.

It happened every now and then; he spent a little more time with Anna than he intended and the realisation that she was his own flesh and blood came speeding back to him. It made his mind become a little less guarded, his hands a little less clenched and he stopped disregarding her small talk, instead he absorbed it.

They were delayed a little by slow traffic and Anna's insistence on getting something to eat in the town when they finally arrived, as if that one-time interference would permanently improve Merlin's eating habits. He could ignore his basic human needs if he wished, and there had been times in his long life he was without food and other luxuries, but he obliged her. He found that a sort of tranquillity was instilled in Anna from spending so much time with him, like they used to. It was also obvious she was hesitant to breach the topic of Glastonbury Tor, and Merlin gave her no excuse to either.

Despite the darkening sky, Merlin insisted Anna show him the next magical anomaly as soon as possible and there was one due to happen later that night. So she began to lead him out of the town.

Merlin could see the lake more clearly out here, and the mythical tower at the centre. It used to bring him a sense of comfort, coming here, but only at certain points did he feel like it. This was definitely not one of them, so he averted his gaze as much as he could.

"You've lived here before, haven't you?" Anna asked a little quietly as they marched through fields.

"One of the many places," he muttered in response. He looked around. "Even now it's peaceful. Reminds me of back then."

Anna turned and smiled. "I wouldn't mind moving out here. Getting away from the city." She turned back, marching onwards. "I can see why you like it."

Merlin grunted amusedly. "Oh, there is something wrong with every place, I assure you. What I couldn't stand was the people, mostly. They kept getting the legends wrong."

"I can see why that would be annoying," Anna chuckled. "Being the only one who knew the truth."

He managed to smile a little at her words but the rare inspiration to talk suddenly fled him. He wasn't even sure what was truth anymore – whether the stories he told Anna when she was young were correct or just embellishments.

Merlin quickly rid himself of such thoughts. He didn't want to lament over lost memories and a long-forgotten past.

Anna seemed to sense his mood-swing and remained quiet as they neared the site.

She was certainly right about the magical pressure. As soon as he arrived in the town he could feel the magical aura engulfing the town in a way it hadn't in a long time. But he wouldn't call it unusual – that had happened before and he had subsequently gotten eager over nothing. He could feel the sites around him though, attempting to draw him in even though there was nothing left to see.

Eventually, Anna stopped and looked around. It was very dark by now and Merlin was tempted to light a fire. Perhaps they should have waited for the next one, but Anna told him that according to the pattern she had followed, it would happen in a few days. He wasn't willing to wait that long.

"It should happen around here somewhere," Anna told him. "I hope we catch it. I think I was lucky last time."

Merlin could tell how it would be difficult; although magic filled the air, he couldn't seem to pinpoint it in one spot. Anna had chosen a high point in land to survey the area, but he doubted she could see much in the dark.

"Use that spell I taught you to see," he called out to her as he began to head towards a group of trees. "I'll look in here."

"What spell?" she shouted.

Merlin stopped in his tracks and sighed. He faced her and with a flash of his eyes performed the spell that was child's play to him. He watched her surprise at her sudden adept night-vision and then kept heading into the trees. He _had_ taught Anna that spell, hadn't he? Perhaps she had forgotten or he was mixed up. He quickly performed the spell on himself then surveyed his surroundings.

It was the wind whistling through the trees above him and the chilly night air that made him the most peaceful. He sometimes wished he could remain in such a spot for eternity, and although he had tried, he found that even this grew tiresome after a while. He had realised that although this was his favourite environment, it was merely the most tolerable. Everything grew tedious with time.

Merlin trudged through the dry mud and over the thick roots sticking up from the ground. The magic seemed to thicken by the second. It didn't lessen even as he continued. It made him wonder how far this magical energy travelled and what exactly Anna saw. It clearly wasn't dangerous from the way she was acting, merely confusing.

He hadn't realised how far he'd gone, lost in his thoughts until he arrived at a clearing. He seemed surrounded by forest while Anna had brought him to a hilly area. Just how far did this magic span?

It certainly seemed concentrated here though, and Merlin was suddenly filled with anticipation, that something was about to appear. He whisked his head around, waiting for someone to arrive. He was sure it had to be someone causing these anomalies but he couldn't sense anyone.

After a few minutes, it was clear no-one was arriving and he was about to leave the clearing when he heard a sound behind him, one that reminded him of paper-tearing, but long and drawn-out.

Merlin turned, hand raised. He never paid for being too cautious. However, whatever he was expecting, it wasn't this white light, searching his face like a torch. He could tell it wasn't an artificial light but it blinded him with his enhanced night-vision. Once it passed his face, he felt an intense heat surround him but he couldn't tear his eyes away from what was before him.

It shimmered in the air and every now and then, light shone from it, passing his face. A circle of white light glowed in front of him with a distorted view of the trees behind it. He took a step closer, the heat growing more intense, and he realised that what he could see through this window of light differed to his surroundings.

Was it showing him something? His mind cast back to visions from the Crystal Cave, and he was reluctant to experience such a thing again. But if it was a vision of the future, then surely that means that something worth prophesising was on its way. Merlin allowed a sliver of hope that Anna was right about these signs, and took another step forward.

He could see through it more clearly now but it showed him nothing but a forest. Getting a little frustrated, he raised his hand, but as he did, he felt a cool air radiating from the window; a relief to the heat engulfing him. Moving his face closer, he could feel the relaxing breeze better and even hear it through the trees despite the absence of wind around him.

Perhaps it was not a window… But a portal? Merlin had never seen one quite like it. But at this point, he was never one to turn away such a new and different experience. The thought occurred to him that he should turn back and confer with Anna about this discovery, but he felt strangely compelled to stay where he was. Something called to him from beyond the window and an ancient longing began to creep into his bones. The world he was staring into began to feel more familiar than the area around him, and the heat was beginning to disappear.

Then, when Merlin found the window begin to shrink in on itself, he was suddenly submerged in a feeling he had not succumbed to in many years: pure instinct. He had not the mind to curse himself as he plunged into the shimmering, distorted world that called out to him just like home.


	2. Chapter 2

Anna was still looking around when she felt an odd feeling at the back of her neck. It felt like she was being watched but she was sure there was no-one else around. All she knew that something appeared to have gone wrong.

Following this feeling was the realisation that her father had been alone for a little longer than she would have liked. She knew that he could take care of himself, of course, but Anna just wasn't sure he should face whatever it is she saw alone. Taking a deep breath, she began to follow his path into the trees, hoping he hadn't gone far.

It was only as Anna continued her trek that a large knot began to form in her stomach. The evening wind had begun to die down and instead a strange fog filled the air. It wasn't too thick, and she was undeniably grateful for her father's spell, allowing her to see. She gripped the trunk of a large tree to help her balance as she climbed a higher part of ground. She was never comfortable with adventuring in the great outdoors.

When she reached a clearing, Anna suddenly felt it. If magic wasn't thick in the air already, it was most concentrated here. It was almost suffocating, the magical pressure, and she had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself. The fog was thickest here, as if an immense battle had just taken place, but there were no scorch marks on the grass; no signs that anything unusual happened.

Except her father was nowhere to be found.

* * *

With each new day, Arthur grew more and more anxious. It was a waiting game, he knew, but the longer he waited for news, the worse the news would inevitably become. He wished more than anything he could venture out and look for Merlin himself, but he had already spent enough time doing that at the start, and he did have other duties.

Although Arthur now had some help at court with Guinevere's new status as queen, he was still busier than ever. Normally, despite griping and complaining about his tremendously busy schedule to Merlin, he could enjoy his duties. After all, it all contributed to building his kingdom and after reclaiming Camelot from Morgana, he felt the court and his people were united in a way they hadn't been for a long time.

Everything would have been perfect and moving along, if it weren't for the disappearance of his manservant over a month ago.

Arthur rubbed his forehead as he sat at his desk reading through reports. The task was growing rather tedious more quickly than usual, probably because he knew he wouldn't get interrupted later that evening with Merlin dumping his food in front of him, insisting that he eat and not work so hard, despite then listening to a rant about how a King's duties barely constitutes as work anyway. Arthur knew how much he valued Merlin's company. He wasn't blind; his manservant was his closest friend and sometimes even a capable advisor during the rare occasion. Nevertheless, such knowledge was still not enough to prevent Arthur from taking Merlin for granted. Through his absence and unknown fate, Arthur found it increasingly difficult to get through each day, even with his queen's support. And now the longer he waited, the more Arthur dreaded receiving the news he feared he could not take.

More than that, he feared he could not even grieve properly if this was the case. Already, he had to maintain a confident and calm composure. Most of his advisors sympathised, but clearly did not fully understand his grievance, or simply wanted to gain his favour. To them, Merlin was just his manservant – a loyal one – but a servant all the same.

As his head began to ache once more, he tried to focus his eyes on the papers in front of him. Arthur could feel it – a sense that something was about to happen; that the news would be given soon. Arthur could only hope that Merlin would be found safe and well.

* * *

Merlin woke to the familiar sound of a breeze and the feel of cracked mud cushioning his head. An intense pressure had formed at the back of his eyes, as if he were interrupted from a small amount of sleep, but he blinked hard a few times, trying to focus his sight. Luckily, he realised at the back of his mind, the night vision spell had worn off, or the strong sunlight would have stung dearly. Cracking his knuckles and sitting up, stretching his weary bones, Merlin investigated his surroundings.

He sat amongst trees and mud, as he expected, although he did not recognise the place. Merlin rubbed his eyes trying to cast his mind back to the last thing he remembered. Anna had pulled him from his flat for some fool's errand, if he was correct. Except…

Merlin leaned back as it all came back to him. She was correct in describing the events as 'strange.' He remembered the portal and the light; the dizzying compulsion to jump through. He had to wonder if it actually happened, considering it felt extremely dreamlike to remember.

"Anna?!" he called out, getting to his feet with a minor grumble. He shook and wiped the dirt off his coat, casting his gaze around and trying to recognise anything surrounding him. He was unsuccessful.

Sighing, he made his way through the trees, simultaneously shouting Anna's name and willing himself to wake up more. He felt he needed to be switched on, although Merlin was sure there wasn't anything happening that he couldn't handle.

He would remain calm for now.

* * *

Merlin's period of calm ceased the moment he broke through the trees and encountered the Lake of Avalon.

It was just as he remembered it, but not as it was the night before. The lake was wider and larger, surrounded by trees. It was how it looked some centuries ago, before the water shrank in on itself and the trees were cut down.

Merlin swallowed. He wasn't sure what to make of this at all and he couldn't rid himself of this tiring haze in his mind. He could easily convince himself he was in a dream, made more tempting by his surreal discovery. Except, he was definitely aware enough to be awake and he distantly recognised his state to be some form of shock.

Then there was the question of how real this was. Thinking back, jumping through some shimmering portal probably wasn't the wisest choice, but what worried him more was the desire he possessed to do so. He had felt something call out to him, something familiar that he hadn't felt in so long. But if this world was what he was beginning to suspect, Merlin wasn't sure how to handle it.

Confirmation was needed before anything else. If this really was the Lake of Avalon, then there was a chance he could communicate with it. Crouching down, he laid his hand into the water, remotely noting that his hand wasn't shaking as he expected.

"Freya," he whispered, hoping that this would be one of the times she would reply, that he wouldn't be ignored again. This wasn't demanding to know about Arthur's return or desperately begging to communicate with his ancient past, this was a call for genuine aid.

But the whispers of the lake remained silent and the gentle movement of water remained so. Merlin clenched his fist in the water and scrunched his eyes closed. He abruptly felt the overwhelming impulse to remain immobile, not decide what to do for years if it pleased him so, linger near the lake and become one with nature until he received a response.

However, Merlin had done this several times before and nothing was ever gained from it.

Forcing the desire to the back of his mind, he stood up, exhaling a long breath from deep inside his body. All he wanted was answers and though he knew he must wait, Merlin felt he was owed a few when thrust into such an unfamiliar situation. For if it was what his mind was trying firmly to deny, he would have to break out of his slow mind-set, make time move stable again, live in the now. He longed to investigate; from somewhere deep inside of him, a spark had taken hold, yet his habitual reasoning was yearning him to take it slow, remain here and take his time.

Kneeling down again, he splashed some water on his face, hoping that would wake him up some more. His mind had already cleared somewhat, but he found it difficult to move, even while he was deciding what to do. Of course, if he were the same man he was even five centuries ago, he would have already left by now, heading in the direction he knew Camelot would be. But it was not only his body that had withered in the past few centuries; his mind was slowly degenerating as well.

Suddenly a bitterness filled him, wondering why on earth destiny would wait so long, wait until he was so useless and tired and then force him to face all of this out of nowhere and in such an unexpected way. Grabbing a large nearby stone, he thrust it into the lake disrupting the serene blanket of water. But, of course, his impulsive action did nothing to improve how he felt. If anything, it made him feel worse, guilty at the thought of Freya but also so frustrated at her silence.

Biting his lip, he attempted to maintain control. Merlin feared that what was happening around him could force the persona he'd spent decades perfecting to suddenly break. He was unprepared for this. Controlling his breathing, he basked in the familiar indifference and began to think logically.

He felt more sure as time went past that it was what he suspected. It was confirmed by the fact that he couldn't feel Anna anywhere. If needed, he could cast his senses out and feel her magic, even if she were in another town, but Merlin could only feel the steady magic of the lake, which had always been comforting but strangely alien to him, no matter how much time he spent around it.

Now that he had cast aside his fear and dread at the situation, Merlin knew inaction wasn't an option. He needed to confirm what he suspected and determine what point in time he travelled to exactly, although somewhere deep in his gut he knew near enough when he was. He avoided thinking of it too much.

Hiding his fists in his pockets from the chilly air and remaining as relaxed as he could manage, Merlin trudged back into the trees, hoping memory served him well and he headed in the right direction. He missed the soft dejected sigh of his name as he left, a whisper from the lake.

* * *

Arthur was struggling to resist the urge to yawn. It had been a long day and he was currently listen to a farmer's dispute over a neighbour's claim to farmland. It was Arthur himself who insisted in this accessible council between him and his people, but the argument had definitely gone on for too long, and he was eager to retire to his chambers to continue his work and maybe have some dinner with Guinevere. Amazingly, she was next to him, sitting as attentively as ever, filled with some strange everlasting energy. It filled him with some well-earned glee, watching her sit by his side. He loved Gwen for more than her honourable attributes, but he had definitely chosen well for a queen.

When both sides finally had an equal say and Arthur felt he could put an end to the dispute without seeming terribly dismissive, he gave what he deemed a fair solution and the two farmers were on their way. He expelled a long sigh as soon as they were out of sight, earning a tiny reprimanding glance from Guinevere and a grin from Gwaine who was standing nearby. It bettered his spirits a little, giving the illusion that things were somewhat normal. He hadn't been scolded at by Guinevere or seen Gwaine smile very often since Merlin's disappearance. He hated being treated as if he were fragile but at the same time, he knew Gwen merely acknowledged that he had a lot on his mind. He also knew how close Merlin was to her and some of the other knights. He was not the only one downcast by the loss.

Gaius was close to inconsolable. He seemed to throw himself into his work and although he seemed to maintain some strong sort of faith in Merlin in the beginning, the longer he was gone, the more Gaius appeared to feel the loss, perhaps acknowledge that Merlin would have at least contacted him, more than anyone in Camelot, if he was safe and able to.

So despite maintaining his high levels of work as a physician, Gaius kept conversation to a minimal, face torn as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, or knew something but couldn't do anything to help. It hurt Arthur to see. Gaius would not even converse with him much.

Arthur was just about suggest retiring to his chambers, trying to dispel depressing considerations of Merlin's whereabouts when Leon burst into the throne room, eyes wide and staring, telling him one thing.

He found Merlin.

"Sir Leon," he spoke, trying to keep his voice level. "You have news?"

"Yes, Sire. We found him."

Arthur's grip on the armrest tightened. He dared not to hope. "Merlin."

"Yes, Sire," Leon confirmed, nodding. "He's alive."

What felt like years' worth of tension fled him immediately and Arthur couldn't stop a large grin from covering his face. Leaning his head back slightly, he closed his eyes to hold back his immense joy for now and focus on Leon again, who he suddenly realised had remained tense.

"Thank goodness," Gwen sighed quietly, clasping her chest in relief.

"Where is he?" Arthur questioned, casting his gaze around as slyly as he could manage. He started feeling that awful dread creeping at him again at Leon's expression.

"He is alive, Sire, but something is wrong," Leon informed him with hesitance. "He would not enter the city. He remains in the forest, refusing to come."

Not merely dread but confusion washed over Arthur like a cold water-filled bucket. He glanced at Guinevere who stared back, a worried line creasing between her brows. "That doesn't sound like Merlin," she stated.

He could feel Gwaine nearby burning with questions, yearning to say something, but strangely enough he remained quiet.

Arthur fiddled his fingers in thought, zeroing in on Leon. "Was he injured at all, Sir Leon?"

"No, Sire," Leon answered. "He was a little dishevelled in appearance and was not wearing his usual garments. But it is his mind that I fear for. For he did not seem to welcome the patrol finding him."

Arthur's chest seemed to tighten even more as his worry increased. What on earth had happened to him? Decision made, he stood quickly, taking off his cape to give to his replacement servant. "Sir Leon, alert Gaius and tell him he should make preparations just in case. Ready the horses and meet me outside. I want you to show me where you found him."

Leon nodded and sent someone to give Gaius the news while heading off to make the preparations.

"Hold on, Princess," Gwaine cut in, although fortunately he was quiet enough not to let everyone hear the irritating nickname Gwaine insisted on calling him. He had learned not to bother trying to reprimand Gwaine for these things as he knew that he had the man's complete loyalty. Perhaps it was sort of flattering in a way since it showed he wasn't loyal to his title as king, but to Arthur himself. He had long since pondered the issue. "If you think you're going out there alone-" Gwaine continued.

"Of course not, Sir Gwaine," Arthur reassured him. "I doubt even a royal decree could stop you." Arthur recognised Gwaine's fierce determination was not really for him, but for Merlin. It was touching in a way to see that Merlin could inspire such loyalty as well.

Gwaine stuck close by him as they made their way out into the courtyard, relieved to see Leon and a servant readying the horses. Arthur was filled with a mixture between excitement and urgency. There was clearly something deeply wrong, and not knowing exactly what burned at his insides, because then he had to consider that whatever damage was dealt was irreparable, that whatever had happened to Merlin during the past month had forever changed the young man. But at the same time, he could not deny the great relief and tempting urge to believe that whatever had happened would blow over quickly and things would go back to normal.

Whatever happened, Arthur would find out the reason for Merlin's disappearance and help him as much as he was able. He owed that to his friend.

Clenching his teeth as he followed Leon, Arthur rode with a determination he hadn't felt since reclaiming his throne from Morgana.

* * *

Merlin stared into the small wisp of flames at his campsite. His fire was dying out, but he didn't bother to rekindle it. He hadn't even felt that cold in the first place, he just needed something to focus his attention to, pretend he was just camping out in the wilderness as he sometimes felt the need to do now and then, like nothing was out of the ordinary. It was approaching night and it had been hours since he had eaten, yet he couldn't motivate himself to find some food. It was all right. His body didn't really need it, and he could wait till the hunger stopped bothering him and his mind could narrow in thought from the lack of energy. He found that thought rather promising for the moment.

He had gained confirmation. Proof that the portal he had so foolishly leaped through was some sort of passage into the past. And not just any past, the time when Camelot was thriving under Arthur's rule. At least, that's what he surmised from his conversation with Sir Leon.

Merlin had been travelling for a few days, making his rather surreal trip towards Camelot, supposedly, without allowing himself to think about it too much. He lived off the land, which he was always capable of doing, but it was still strange how alone in the world he suddenly felt, and how large the land seemed around him without the existence of technology and the large towns and cities nearby. He never found it difficult to resist the new technology the modern age had produced; he was by himself most of the time anyway. But there was a strange, forced dependence on the nature around him, and Merlin found himself enjoying it.

It also distracted him from his destination; focusing on the journey he took to get there. Hunting and camping safely was easy with his magic, and he didn't run into any trouble. It was second-nature for him to use magic for simple things, sometimes in plain sight as the typical modern person had the tendency to try and explain anything around them, no matter how magical it seemed. Merlin remembered without much nostalgia the uncertain feeling he would receive using magic in a time it was forbidden and meant life or death. Even doing magic alone in the woods gave him a dreadful tickle in his spine, that perhaps someone was watching him. At the time, it was hard-earned caution, he told himself, it was how he lived his entire life. He had forgotten this caution and with its remembrance, he saw it for the shackles it really was. He was powerful enough now to correct any mistakes if anyone happened to see his magic. There were no consequences.

It was freeing in a way. He had never felt it in the modern day, as magic was generally believed to be drivel and he cared little of what others thought anyway. But being here again, in this time, with the state of things as he believed them to be, Merlin could use his magic in a way his former self couldn't. It took up a lot of space in his mind, comparing himself to what he used to be, or to what he could remember.

He had lived so long and developed such a keen eye to people around him that he could tell the difference, recognise his state of mind and pick out his phases of depression that went round like a cycle. He couldn't remember what he was like to others centuries ago, but he remembered certain thoughts, naïve remarks that baffled him to think about now.

Like how determined he was not to kill Mordred.

Merlin sighed, hoping the fire would continue flickering for just a little longer. It was calming and helped his train of thought, but he felt once the flame diminished, he would have to decide his next move. After the unexpected encounter earlier, he knew he needed to move.

He had been roaming closer to the kingdom of Camelot, he hoped. The forest tugged at him like a far-off sense of déjà vu, but he still couldn't be sure. He didn't want to stop at nearby villages and needlessly interact with anyone either, he was perfectly content with making his way through the trees, lurking around with his thoughts.

Until he had heard a rustle that he belatedly cursed at himself for disregarding. A few moments later had him surrounded with red-caped knights, hands on their swords.

The suddenness of it was startling to say the least, and although the sight of the knights was alarming, it didn't feel out of place to him. It was as if he was used to seeing the knights of Camelot even though the last time he had was over a millennium ago.

The sound of a sword unsheathing behind him was also not as startling as it used to be. He had spent more time than he would have liked around armies, soldiers and war for centuries and had grown used to the supposed threat. But that didn't change the fact that his body had seized up at his current predicament.

"Declare yourself," the calm voice ordered behind him.

Not daring himself to speak, Merlin slowly turned round, showing his face to the knight. At first, Merlin barely recognised his face, but like a short stab, it came flooding back to him.

Sir Leon.

"Merlin?" Leon gasped, as if unsure.

Merlin opened his mouth to respond but possessed no words in his mind or voice in his throat. The sight of Sir Leon, and the rest of the knights who he had trouble remembering, had confirmed his theory. The logical part of his brain almost rejoiced at the certainty yet he was frozen stiff at what this implied.

As his eyes unfocused, he tried to process the situation. He had travelled back in time but what did that mean? What about the other Merlin? Was he messing up the timeline just by being there? Would he find Arthur again?

Distantly he heard the sound of Leon sheathing his sword and approach cautiously, but Merlin was concentrating on the burning sensation at the back of his eyes, one he had not allowed himself in a long time. The thought of seeing Arthur… even one from the past. He felt as if it were forbidden but he was here, wasn't he? He had waited for so long. Was this what it was all for?

"Merlin," Leon said carefully, in a tone which implied it was not the first time he had called his name.

Merlin felt a slight touch on his shoulder but he couldn't help his flinch as he stumbled back, glaring at Leon. He had just barely reigned back his magic in time, but with his mind processing so much and an uncontrollably distressed emotional state, he felt his magic boil within him eagerly and persistently.

"Merlin?" Leon tried once again, hoping to get a response.

"Sir Leon," Merlin whispered, his voice croaked. He was sure he hadn't gotten any faces mixed up, but he hoped he wasn't wrong.

Leon attempted a calm smile which was clearly more for Merlin's benefit. What did he look like, a frightened rabbit?

"Merlin. We've been searching for you."

Had they now?

"What happened?" Leon queried, seemingly settling back into role of authoritative knight now he had received a response from Merlin.

"Searching for me?" Merlin questioned instead.

Leon seemed to grow even more worried, which Merlin couldn't help inwardly roll his eyes at. If he could only get a read on the situation. His mind was a mess, yet he had to remain at least calm-looking, which he doubted he had initially achieved, and he had to get his thoughts in order, starting with why they were out looking for him. That was certainly unusual.

"Merlin, why don't you come back with us to the castle?" Leon suggested, yet he was already signalling the other knights to follow.

When Leon turned to go, he seemed to quickly realise Merlin wasn't following and so turned back to face him, noticing his set, resolute expression.

"I can't go back there," Merlin found himself saying. _Just not right now, at least_ , he added mentally.

Leon stared at him, perplexed, but with no small amount of concern. "Merlin, the King sent us to find you. It has been weeks. We must head back."

Merlin shook his head, disgruntled at how persistent Leon could be. He was used to just doing what he wanted, what he said, as it was unlikely anyone but Anna would really care what he was up to. And even then he could ignore her.

"Merlin," Leon insisted once more, an ounce of frustration in his tone as he reached out for his shoulder again.

Merlin batted his arm away in response, an unexpected rage filling him. "Do not touch me or I'll…" It came out as a growl but he trailed off as he realised the Merlin of this time had no real threat behind his words to the eyes of these knights. He felt lost, warring between who he was and who he was expected to be.

Despite awkwardly trailing off, Leon still seemed to read the warning in his eyes, however, and wise man he was, backed off. He had perfected the stare of intimidation over the years and it helped in preventing him using magic to make his point. Even Sir Leon who only knew the lanky manservant of this time knew better than to pursue his current course of action.

"Merlin, we are only trying to help," he insisted, raising his hands a little in a gesture of peace.

"I am not going back," Merlin told him, his voice daring him to disagree once more, and with a warning glance to the other knights, he turned and walked further into the trees. "And don't follow me."

He had stomped through the forest, sensing Leon's caution behind him. He appeared to let Merlin leave, but he could hear a couple of knights follow him as silently as they could. Anticipating this, Merlin used whatever subtle magic he could to throw them off, camouflage, covering his trail with a gust, and eventually invisibility when he felt he could get away with it. Merlin walked far enough and eventually found a ditch under a tree he took refuge near, building a small campsite and lighting it with a flash of his eyes. It was only as he sat down he realised his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

He did not expect the rage that consumed him. Merlin was already unused to interacting with others. His current objective had been to avoid them as much as possible, only talking to Anna occasionally and minimal contact with whatever cashier was at the store. Personally, he preferred the young and sulky ones. Even with this to consider, he was a little surprised at how angry he felt at being told what to do. It had been a long time since he had spoken to knights or any kind of noble.

And the suggestion to head to Camelot had thrown him off completely. No. He could wait. He needed time to collect his thoughts, decide on a course of action and then survey the kingdom, perhaps. He didn't want to waltz right in. He didn't think he could. Encountering Leon and the knights had been bizarre enough, and he found he had some long-suppressed temper to deal with too.

It was as if this little adventure he was in was opening long-closed doors of emotion, ones he had desperately kept shut for decades, and for good reason. Leon's suggestion seemed absurd to him.

However, after some time pondering this encounter, watching the flames and waiting for them to die, he had managed to calm himself. His magic was no longer boiling, it was just there, announcing its presence with a tinge of excitement, keeping him rooted to the spot for some reason. Merlin realised that he let his anger cloud his judgment. Leon was only being Leon after all. He was trying to help and Merlin in this time was just the king's manservant. Who had been missing for weeks.

That was another strange fact. He cast his mind back but could not recall such a disappearance. Merlin would not discount his ill memory of the events at Camelot, but it certainly was peculiar, and he didn't disregard it as a consequence of his supposed time travel.

And that was what brought him to this place. Seeing Leon, running from him, pondering recent events and the reasons. Watching the flames.

The fire died.

The trees rustled behind him. He heard the sound of hooves.

Despite this, and Merlin blamed his magic's sudden defiance to move, he did not budge an inch. Even when the sounds eventually came closer and he listened to a set of chainmail dismount behind him with the hairs at the back of his neck standing with a feeling he could not quite identify.

His heart seized for the first time since he had sent his King to Avalon, as he once again heard that voice.

"Merlin…"


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin felt the tension thick in the air, steadily growing the longer he refused to face him. A part of him was baffled at his behaviour, mentally shaking his head, grasping his hair in bewilderment, screaming that this was his king, his Arthur. How couldn't he face him?

Another part of him was shaking his head for a different reason. Real disappoint and guilt filling him up at what he had become; certain that Arthur would not appreciate who he now was, would not accept him. He was so far away from what he was before – from Arthur's Merlin – and desperately he tried to search deep inside himself for any semblance that remained of the young, naïve boy that Arthur remembered.

No trace of that boy remained. And he was also sure he wouldn't want to become him again – he knew better now, he was no longer foolish or naïve or blind. But Arthur stood right behind him, probably about to demand an explanation, and would Merlin have to lie to him again? Pretend to be a different person-

_Arthur was standing right behind him._

Again, that burning feeling itched behind his eyes but he held it back. He could hear Leon whisper to Arthur, warning him to be cautious – that this wasn't the Merlin he knew. Well, he was certainly right. But Arthur would be exactly the same, wouldn't he? Full of hope for the future and the strength Merlin always used to admire. The Once and Future King, except Merlin knew that wouldn't be what broke him when he turned around, it would be the sight of his dearest, his oldest, friend.

"Merlin," Arthur called again, projecting confidence and authority, but more to snap Merlin out of whatever trance he was in, he could tell. There was a fair amount of concern and relief in his voice.

Apparently, it was what Merlin needed. It helped to take it as a command, gaining the strength to stand and found his magic was eagerly nudging him to do so. He suddenly realised with an ounce of dark humour that his magic knew Arthur would find him here before he did. He couldn't decide whether or not to be annoyed with his magic for not cooperating with him, for once. Perhaps, his magic knew his true desires better than he did.

He suddenly felt self-conscious about his appearance. Merlin didn't care much for the feeling. Never mind the fact he was covered in dirt, he probably didn't look very close to how he appeared during his time in Camelot. Scratching his sloppy stubble, he wondered with his greasy hair and modern clothes how recognisable he looked.

Merlin sensed Arthur was about to lose his patience. It was as if that mental timer he used when he was young to drive Arthur mad had popped back into appearance like it had never left. So to prevent a potential meltdown, he blinked a few times, preparing himself, and turned around.

Seeing Arthur again was reminiscent to the surreal dreams he experienced now and then that submerged him in memories he believed to have forgotten, times in Camelot, the blue of Arthur's eyes and the set of his jaw when he was being stubborn about something. He would receive glimpses and then awaken, forgetting what Arthur looked like again. And so, it felt like at any moment, Arthur would fade out and disappear and Merlin would have no recollection of his face, only of the amazement and relief to finally see him again, to believe that his destiny was worth something.

This amazement was so prevalent in his mind that for once he forgot entirely about his surroundings, the other two knights present, what Arthur must be thinking, and what expression he must be making right now, gaping at the sight before him.

Apparently it was one to break even Arthur's composure because when Merlin decided to finally examine Arthur's face, it was the look of someone who had lost a dear friend, who was watching someone go mad, watching someone he didn't even know. And it all seemed to sum up perfectly what Merlin had been reduced to, he realised with sudden clarity.

He took a moment to acknowledge Sir Leon, watching with caution, as always, and Gwaine – Merlin's heart trembled – wearing that concerned look that didn't seem to fit on his face, but one Gwaine very rarely expressed, Merlin remembered, one that was usually reserved for Merlin. Hearing the news about Gwaine after Arthur's passing caused just another crack in his psyche, another loss he had to bury, and seeing them all again seemed to bring these losses to the surface.

"Merlin," Arthur stammered, his voice broken but somehow still remaining strong. "What happened?"

It was then other matters of importance arose in his mind, such as what he would tell them, what he should do now Arthur was standing right there. Was this part of his destiny or a mistake? Whatever it was, he had to decide quickly.

"I don't remember much," Merlin told them, feeling disconnected from his words, his voice surprisingly loud.

He watched Arthur give Leon an anxious glance as he turned his gaze back to Merlin. "Let's go back to Camelot, Merlin," Arthur said, walking forward. Merlin recognised it for what it was, not a suggestion, but a command. Arthur was supremely worried about Merlin's state and he obviously wanted to be in the safety of his walls before fully investigating.

Merlin could grant him that much. Stepping forward, he allowed Arthur to grasp him gently on his arm, his magic rejoicing, but his mind still strangely fazed. This moment felt more surreal than any other since he travelled to this time, which was bizarre enough, but it seemed now that his wait was over, in the most unexpected way. He wasn't sure if he was happy about that – Arthur's return wasn't really a return; it wouldn't be the perfect reunion Merlin had dreamed of for centuries.

He supposed he could adjust.

Arthur's grip tightened on his arm as he led him out through the trees and to the waiting horses. His magic didn't seem to settle, but Merlin had never felt it as peaceful in a long time. He thought, vaguely, that his magic was adjusting to the situation better than him, a fact he found slightly humorous as Arthur insisted on riding with him.

He couldn't help but stare wondrously at Arthur's face behind him as he shifted on the horse. It had been a while since he rode one, never mind with someone else. Arthur seemed determined to stare ahead as he rode and ignore Merlin, but he could see the concern behind his eyes, veiled by confidence and strength. Merlin couldn't believe that this young king was really _his_ king. Merlin could usually tell what Arthur was thinking in the past, see past the king's projections. But Arthur was as easy to read as everyone else, so terribly youthful and oblivious. It further confused Merlin as he tried to encompass the situation, the fact that Arthur was sitting right behind him.

As he kept his gaze forward, Merlin grimly thought of how the real Arthur, the one behind him, would probably never compare to the image he had held in his mind for a millennium and a half. He would never live up to the stories he told Anna when she was younger, the faint glimpses of Arthur in those rare dreams, even the false legends and myths still told in the twenty-first century. This Arthur was as transparent as any other human he had met. Not for the first time Merlin cursed the consequence of time, changing his perception of the one person he held above all.

They rode in silence. Arthur swallowed and cleared his throat several times, as if about to speak, but something stopped him. Gwaine and Leon both kept their mouths shut, sensing the thick tension in the air. However, it wasn't long before they reached the castle grounds.

Merlin ignored the curious and relieved stares they received as they rode through the city. He forgot how incredibly nosy people were in the cities of old, anonymity never being a saviour like it was in larger cities from his time. But through all that, it made his insides twinge at how many knew and appreciated him here in Camelot. His face had never been known to so many others in a long time, and he preferred it that way.

Merlin hurriedly dismounted when they reached the castle, wiping dirt from his coat and rubbing his hands together. He found he didn't want to look at his surroundings; staring at the dusty ground was preferable. His expectation of Arthur had shaken and he was somewhat afraid to receive the same shock with this place of legend around him. He had remembered the vague sense of colour of the castle, how it felt to stand outside it with the sun bearing down on him on a bright day, and a warm feeling of home. If he looked too closely, he feared that these treasured memories he had carried through the centuries would be tarnished.

It suddenly occurred to him how quiet it was, and then two large boots appeared in his sight. He felt large gloved hands on his shoulders as he was swept in a rough hug. Before it had even really begun, it was over, and Merlin was left with staring at Arthur's relief.

"I have to say, I'm not sure the facial hair suits you, Merlin. It makes you look older."

It was a joke, of course, but it portrayed Arthur's true concern, even as he was smiling at him. He did look older. But Merlin seemed to be on the same page as his magic regarding Arthur this time, and before he knew it, he had grabbed Arthur's shoulders and embraced him again, as tightly as he could manage with Arthur's chainmail, huffing a teary laugh as the realisation hit him.

How could he have looked down upon his king? How could he have disregarded Arthur, lumping him in with everyone else when he was the best of them? His mind cleared of the haze he had brought with him since he arrived here, and perhaps some of the mental fatigue he had carried with him for decades as he squeezed Arthur, uncaring of the stares he could feel around him. He trembled as he felt Arthur's hair brushing his cheek and closed his eyes, just concentrating on the feel of him.

It was over too soon, however, as Arthur carefully took hold of his arms and moved, staring at Merlin with very wide eyes. Merlin gazed back, knowing he must look like a happy fool but he couldn't stop his eyes burning and his vision turning glassy.

Arthur seemed to withhold his concern and shock and pat Merlin's shoulder toughly, as if he were a disheartened knight. "I'm glad I found you, Merlin," he said quietly but with warmth.

With that, Merlin suddenly found he had the strength to look around him, take in the castle and the people. The layout of the castle had grown greatly muddled in his head, but everything slotting back into place the way it was turned out to be more relieving than anything else. Merlin embraced it all, the earthy smell that had disappeared from the modern world, the soft sounds of the horses and the bustling sound of chatter and work in the background. This was the place where it all began for him. He couldn't believe he was back. He was trying to grasp the knowledge in his head, attempting to process it so he can revel in his joy for longer, but it continued to be out of his reach, just like any realisation or change too big for the mind to comprehend.

"Merlin!" came the cry of relief behind them. Stumbling down the steps to meet them was Gaius, looking more animated than Merlin had ever remembered him. He didn't run to meet him, just waited for the old man to tumble into his arms, muttering "my boy," and close to tears.

It was startling how shaken Gaius looked, how energetic but tired-looking, and most of all, how young he suddenly seemed in Merlin's eyes, a direct contrast to the wise elder he'd looked at as a father all those years ago. After all, everyone was young for him, even the wisest and most white-haired. Whenever he looked in someone's eyes, he was reminded of the vast lack of inexperience they had compared to him, the semblance of hope and other damning qualities.

Merlin realised he hadn't spoken a word for a while. He glanced at Arthur who was watching Merlin and Gaius' reunion with open fondness.

"Allow Gaius to check you over, then we can talk," Arthur ordered, nodding to the physician and making his way to the gates.

Merlin found his feet moving towards him without even realising, panic taking over. "Wait, Arthur," he insisted, voice coming out in a shaken hiss. He had grasped the king's arm without thinking.

Naturally, Arthur looked very spooked at Merlin's actions. "What is it, Merlin?"

Merlin could only stare back with a thinly veiled desperation in his eyes, suddenly trembling with the fear that this really was all a dream, and he would wake the moment he lost sight of Arthur.

Arthur seemed to understand his fear somewhat and cautiously unclasped Merlin's hand from his arm, giving it a gentle pat. "It's all right, Merlin."

Being consoling was definitely outside of Arthur's comfort zone and Merlin suddenly saw how concerned Arthur was, not knowing how to deal with someone like him. It did reassure him somewhat, because a recoil from Merlin was realistic, unlike a dream where Arthur would be accepting and perfect, always. It cleared his mind, allowing him to take a step back and rearrange his face to give Arthur something resembling calm.

It appeared to work as Arthur nodded and smiled as regally as he could, continuing the steps. Leon followed, casting a quick glance back at Merlin, but it didn't seem quite as cautious and suspicious as Merlin expected. It was close to pity, in fact, which would have enraged Merlin at any other time. But the sight of Arthur walking up those steps with his heavy chainmail, looking more noble than any other royal Merlin had seen, calmed his mind, ridding himself of those quick, cynical thoughts that accompanied him everywhere.

"Merlin, why don't you let me check you over?" Gaius suggested, appearing next to him, though it clearly wasn't a suggestion. Merlin let himself be led dazedly into the castle towards the physician's quarters, marvelling at the sight of the familiar walls and thinking hard.

* * *

"Something's wrong with Merlin," Arthur blurted, staring out the window of his chambers in thought.

"I assumed so after hearing Leon's report," Guinevere said, confusion leaking through.

"No." Arthur shook his head. "It's as if he's a different person. Like he hadn't seen me for years."

"That's strange," Gwen noted quietly, clearly thinking things over. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to him?"

Arthur shook his head again. "He hasn't said much. Just keeps staring at me as if I can't believe I'm here."

He could practically feel the questions and concern oozing from Guinevere but he felt low on energy after spending so much trying to remain composed and help his friend. His relief was powerful and made him show affection he sometimes believed unseemly as his position as King. But he couldn't care when Merlin looked like he was about to keel over, thin and ragged, while wearing a foreign and weary look in his eyes.

"The way he's acting… It doesn't make sense," Arthur told her, turning and noticing her wide eyes from where she sat at the table. "One second he was staring then it was as if he couldn't bear to look at me!" His voice had risen so he calmed himself. "He seemed like he couldn't wait to jump from the horse and get away from me. But then he squeezed me so tight I found it hard to breathe."

"Very strange behaviour," Gwen thought aloud. "He's clearly been through something, Arthur. We must be patient."

"Yes, I know," he replied, gracious for Gwen's words. But he wasn't very confident in his ability of comforting others. He wanted to get to the root of what happened to Merlin and fix the situation, but fixing his friend was an entirely different matter.

"Talk to him," Gwen said, standing and clasping his hand, caressing his knuckles. "Find out what happened, but be there for Merlin first."

"I plan to," Arthur assured her.

"But don't speak to him as a king, Arthur," she cautioned, surprising him. "Speak to him as a friend."

* * *

"I assure you I'm all right, Gaius," Merlin repeated for the tenth time.

Gaius merely raised his eyebrow in that way Merlin suddenly remembered was tedious and almost scary. How had he forgotten how stubborn the man was?

Merlin had taken off his coat which Gaius appeared to pay no attention to, but he was eyeing it with curiosity. Though he was grateful and almost touched by the old man's insistence to examine him and make sure he was all right, it did become quite grating.

"Merlin, it is just a simple examination," Gaius insisted, using his stern voice which was often reserved for when he thought Merlin was being foolish. It was amazing how much was coming back to him about Gaius now he was in his company again. He was one of the first to pass, and Merlin had prepared himself for the day even before he knew of his immortality. Gaius was already an old man and declined in health after Arthur's passing. Therefore, although his death was at first heart wrenching and strange, it was nowhere near comparable to the realisation that he would be watching everyone he knew disappear. Arthur's death had already hardened his heart, but being alone had turned it to a cold stone.

Thus, it was strange seeing someone he had left behind so long ago acting as normal as ever.

"I promise I would tell you if there's anything worth examining, but there's not," Merlin told him, attempting to persuade with his tone, but also trying for a lightness he hadn't spoken with since he was young.

Gaius still seemed to be hurt by his words though. He could feel it between them – what Gaius supposed must be a lack of trust – but Merlin knew it was really just the long change that had occurred that made the idea of Gaius fathering him in any way seem silly to imagine. Merlin, of course, knew that Gaius would do anything for him, but that dedication and trust was devoted to the Merlin of long ago.

He remembered the shining eyes of Gaius in the courtyard, however. Although Merlin left Camelot for danger many times, he could not recall Gaius looking as relieved as he did. He must have thought this time's Merlin had died.

Once the thought occurred to him, Merlin found himself wondering again what ever happened to the Merlin here. He appeared to have disappeared and the knights had been searching for him. He needed more information. Whatever it was, he must've been missing long enough for his physical appearance not to be questioned. He recalled Leon saying it had been weeks, but that was vague.

While he had been lost in thought, Merlin noticed Gaius had been watching him closely. Being denied access to his body, Gaius had moved onto assessing his mental state. Sighing, he wondered what to tell him.

"Gaius, how long was I gone?" he asked, going for a haunted and confused tone.

Seemingly relieved Merlin was talking, Gaius relaxed his stance somewhat but still stared intently. "It's been over a month. Arthur searched for you every spare moment he could to begin with, however, he was pressured to remain here while the knights continued the job."

Merlin nodded slowly as Gaius caught him up. "What was I doing when I disappeared? Was there an enemy…?" He narrowed his eyes as if trying to remember.

Gaius seemed even more concerned at Merlin's apparent memory loss. "You were collecting herbs. I sent you..." Gaius broke off as another wave of grief washed over him, but Merlin could hear the heavy guilt in his words. He felt stupid for not noticing it before. "I thought at first you would return on your own," he continued. "I believed there must have been something you had to take care of, perhaps a threat to the kingdom." His voice began to break and was laden with remorse.

Merlin grasped the man's shoulder without full awareness. "The events that have transpired are not your fault, Gaius," putting as much surety in his words as he could manage. "They are mine." And this must be true since none of this would have happened if Merlin had resisted the portal. He was quite possibly responsible for the current Merlin's disappearance as well, so in a way, Gaius was right to grieve. He wasn't quite sure what it would mean in relation to the timeline, however, which was something he feared to think about.

For once, something was far above him and too complicated to control.

"What do you mean, Merlin?" Gaius asked, a haunted look overcoming him.

"I may tell you in time, Gaius," he replied, and was shocked to realise he spoke the truth. "But you have to trust me."

His words seemed to placate Gaius a bit as the man nodded and turned, apparently to begin making something to eat for Merlin. Having someone cook for him without asking was another oddity.

After some time of Gaius cooking under a heavy silence, Merlin begin to fidget, which was uncharacteristic of him. So he made his way to the door of his bedroom which he had been staring at nostalgically for some time.

The sight of his pitiful bed stirred something in him, but it felt too distant for him to really get emotional over a bed, so he forced himself to collapse onto it nonchalantly which was a big mistake.

It was rock hard. The tough fabric and thin mattress had startled him as he toppled onto it and he cursed himself a little. How had he ever dreamed of sleeping on this for hours when he was overworked when it hardly earned the name of a bed? He briefly missed the easy comforts of the twenty-first century. But as he worked his head into the pillow, he gradually decided he could probably get used to it. After all, he had slept in much worse places.

If it weren't for the pressing need for his mind to shut down, Merlin didn't think he would fall asleep on such a bed so quickly, but before he knew it, he was pulled down into a heavy, dreamless slumber.

* * *

Before he knew it, Merlin was awoken with three sharp knocks on his door. He had a very peculiar sense of displacement, simultaneously thinking it was normal to wake in this bed and he had better hurry to serve Arthur, and expecting to be in the dark, dim room of his flat, ready to live out another tedious day. It had happened before considering the many lifetimes he had endured, but rarely with his memories of Camelot.

It took a few seconds to right himself and then he rubbed his eyes, cursing his grogginess. He heard the soft call of his name from outside the door. It sounded like Arthur, but Merlin would expect him to just barge in. Unless he was trying to be a bit sensitive for once.

"I'm coming," Merlin replied with a tired voice. The idea of Arthur standing right outside his door made him jolt, as if he had forgotten why this was all strange. But then the shock of it disappeared again, leaving the entire situation in a surreal light. He really needed to process this.

Once he had collected himself, Merlin opened the door to Arthur standing nearby. The King faced him with a certain strength in his eyes, as if he was trying to be strong for Merlin. It was touching to see at least.

"Merlin! If you're done with your beauty sleep, join me in my chambers after you eat something. You look like you're about to keel over."

He knew what Arthur was trying to do; trying to reinstate the witty batter that had always existed between them where Merlin was a fool and Arthur was a prat, but underneath it all, they were good friends. But he found himself not in the mood, and couldn't really think of an equally insulting response anyhow. Merlin also suspected Gaius had urged Arthur to insist he eat, as if predicting Merlin might be difficult about it.

"Of course, Sire. I'll be right there," he told him in a formal and reserved tone, sitting at the table where Gaius was laying down a bowl of what looked like stew, and watching them both silently.

Merlin didn't look at Arthur but he could sense the slight astonishment and hurt at his cold demeanour. Staring into his stew, he listened to Arthur reply as if nothing was wrong.

"I'll be expecting you then," he said, then made his way out with quick footsteps.

"That was awfully blunt of you, Merlin," Gaius noted, but he didn't seem to reprimand, merely point out his strange behaviour.

"Yes, well, I can be at times," Merlin told him, taking a large spoonful and forcing it down. The taste stirred at the faintest of memories, but ones too far away to be nostalgic. He was making himself eat if only to calm Gaius even further, after refusing to be examined.

Merlin detected Gaius' scolding stare. He didn't appear too impressed. But his lack of knowledge surrounding Merlin's circumstances must have prevented him from speaking further, as he merely gave a tired sigh.

To be honest, Merlin wasn't sure why he was acting so distant. It was his initial response to interacting with anybody, but he did think if Arthur ever did return, it would be to a Merlin he would recognise and welcome. He didn't know how to be like that anymore, so it was easier to remain a little 'blunt,' as Gaius put it. But he knew this attitude would just inspire more questions and concern about his previous whereabouts. After all, a month-long disappearance is not always a valid reason for a complete change in character.

"Gwaine stopped by," Gaius told him, moving on for now. "I told him you needed rest, but you should pay him a visit when you are able."

Merlin huffed, dropping the spoon in the bowl, and slowly chewing on the food left in his mouth. "Perhaps. Maybe when I have the time," he said, rubbing his eyes. The stew had filled his stomach, but he still seemed empty of the energy he felt he needed to deal with certain people. Namely Gaius, Arthur and now Gwaine.

"He's worried about you, Merlin," Gaius pressed. "We're all worried about you."

"Yes, I understand," he said, standing.

"Then you know that you can always trust me, Merlin. You may not be able to tell Arthur the truth, but you can always tell me."

Merlin swallowed and blinked hard, trying to wake himself up some more. "I know that, Gaius. It's merely a matter of belief over capability," he assured him, heading for the door.

Raising his eyebrow, Gaius stood and shuffled over to Merlin. "Perhaps I would have a hard time believing you at first. But I would put those thoughts aside for you in a second, Merlin," Gaius said sternly.

Merlin felt the developing itches of a smile in his cheeks. "Thank you, Gaius," he said, genuinely grateful. "But even I'm finding it difficult getting my head around it all."

Gaius sighed, surmising he wasn't getting anything out of Merlin at the moment. "Go and meet with the King. Just make sure you talk to _someone_ about what really happened."

Merlin nodded. Despite the strangeness of it all, the situation felt surprisingly normal. Gaius cautioning him, preparing himself to lie to Arthur again. He felt out of place, but everyone was acting like themselves around him.

He left his coat, feeling warm in the walls of the castle, probably something to do with his nerves or the anticipation. Stumbling about the halls with jeans and a jumper made him feel like he was in a museum, and he was surprised there weren't many questions about his modern clothes so far. Arthur would be more interested in asking him others first, he supposed.

* * *

Anna sat in her car, heart beating fast, biting her lip nervously. She had searched and shouted almost all night until the lack of sleep made her dizzy and the worry developed into panic. There was no sign of her father at all, and if she hadn't concentrated on finding him so much, she would have retreated from the darkness of the forest long ago. The night vision spell had worn off and the eerie, watchful feeling had remained, which was unsettling. But she only left when she was sure her father could not be found.

Now that she was safe in her car again, Anna was half-believing she had missed somewhere, that she had left him there, a thought that continued creeping on her in a cycle.

But even if he had disappeared, he could take care of himself, couldn't he? He was the sorcerer - Merlin – a figure told in myths and legends that only she knew to be true. It was far more likely that he decided to abandon her, or maybe he had gotten side-tracked and she was forgotten.

The fact that that wasn't surprising for her was certainly depressing, but she would try and contact him as much as she could. Anna had already tried phoning his mobile a hundred times, and she dearly hoped he hadn't forgotten it like he was known to.

Just to make herself feel better, Anna attempted another call. Like all others, it went straight to voice mail, indicating it was switched off or out of battery.

She hadn't left a message so far, as it would've only been panicked panting when she was out looking, but she took a deep breath, wondering what to say.

"This is probably stupid of me, but I'm worried about you. So will you please answer your damn phone already? I know you don't need anyone looking out for you, as you've told me a million times, but this would really put my mind at ease. So if you don't care about yourself, then that's fine. But please let me know you're okay. I brought you here so if you're not…" She trailed off, collecting herself. She would not allow herself to be too upset for him, he barely deserved it from her. "I can't be the reason the greatest sorcerer in the world just randomly disappears, so let me know. Please. If not for yourself, do it for me."

She huffed and hung up, wondering if he would even listen to the whole thing if he ever bothered to pick up his phone. Anna didn't know whether she was worried sick or enraged at her father. She wondered sometimes why she even bothered with him, why she continued trying. But no matter how long she tried to stay away, something always made her return to him, needing to see him even if it was for just five minutes.

Their relationship had their ups and downs, and it had certainly been better in her teenage years. But Anna had always loved her father's stories, and for some reason she couldn't discern, she never questioned them. With all her heart, she believed them. Perhaps she would think differently if she didn't possess some magic. It was the one thing they were able to fully bond over, and Anna would marvel at her father's effortless ability to do wondrous things. She believed that there must be a worthy man, a good man beneath all that power, or at least, there used to be. That's why she was overjoyed to discover something which could lead them to King Arthur – anything to do with Avalon must be a good thing.

But then, her father reacted badly and she lost some of her hope. And now she began to question whether he was right, if she had overreacted and gone in blindly.

Tapping the wheel in some rhythm, Anna scanned her mind for any other way she could maybe find him. The normal method didn't appear to work, so she would have to rely on magic if he didn't contact her. The problem was, her father was heavily guarded against such magic. She didn't fully understand his caution, as she knew of no other magic user that got more than a strong feeling sometimes, but he usually had strange reasons for things.

So scrying was out of the question.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. There had been a time, a distant conversation when she was lost in her teachings because Merlin had been telling her too much at one point and she couldn't take it all in. She had brushed it off at the time since it wasn't an actual spell she could learn and never in her wildest dreams did she ever think she would need it.

Her father had told her that if something had happened to him or he seemed to be unavailable for any reason, she could contact him a certain way. It was incredibly vague and Anna wasn't sure if she believed it, much less wanted to try it, but it was the only thing she could do at the moment.

She basked in the brief safety of her car and then opened her door, spurred on by the feelings of urgency and hope in her chest. Anna cast her gaze around. It had brightened considerably while she was in her car and she could hear the birds chirping with the early morning light. Now if only she could find one.

"Little birds, little birds, come on out," she muttered sardonically, making her way over to a lonesome tree.

She could hear and see a few on the branches, but she wasn't sure how to even hold one without birdfeed, never mind communicate with one. Anna suddenly felt incredibly stupid.

It was as if one sensed her distress. A fluttering appeared before her and instinctively she held out her hand to receive a little blue bird she couldn't help note to be cute.

"All right, this feels really dumb but I guess I'll give it a go," Anna said, softly brushing a finger against the bird's feathers. It tweeted and twitched its head. She was surprised it hadn't flown off like birds tended to do, but she also sensed there must have been more to her father's words.

"Please, find my father. Find _Emrys_ and tell him to get back here, right now," with a more irritated voice than she had planned. She was thinking of more to say when the bird took off in flight immediately and she lost sight of it.

Anna rushed back to her car, hoping no-one saw her talk to a bird, but perhaps they would only judge her as some sort of Snow White imitator if they did. She couldn't believe that worked! If only the bird could tell him how much of an obnoxious prat he was for leaving her here. Despite knowing she would be incredibly hurt if that was what happened, it was the best she could hope for. The alternative was too scary to imagine.

* * *

"Merlin!" Gwen greeted warmly, hugging him tight and giving him a smile Arthur suspected she reserved just for Merlin. He couldn't pinpoint an exact reason for why that didn't bother him.

Merlin seemed eager to break the hug but Arthur caught a grateful and awed look in his eyes as he stared at Gwen.

"I'm so happy you're back," Gwen told him, squeezing his arms.

"I can see that," Merlin mumbled. Arthur didn't know if it was intended to hurt Gwen or not. It was a reserved tone, but Merlin's eyes were staring at her intently. Once again he felt another pang of frustration over Merlin's odd behaviour.

"Well, I won't linger here when you have matters to discuss," Gwen said, remaining perfectly composed. Arthur only hoped he had that kind of patience when dealing with Merlin; Guinevere was acting as if nothing was wrong.

Arthur took a seat when Gwen left, indicating Merlin to do the same. "It's about time you got here," Arthur teased. But then he grew serious. "I hope it was because Gaius was examining you."

Arthur had used a tone of disappointment which he hoped would stir a reaction from Merlin, but his friend continued his heavy gaze around his chambers as he moved to his seat, looking around almost fondly before settling on Arthur and giving no reaction to what was said.

He had no idea how to treat this new Merlin. Hopefully his friend would improve after some discussion but his hopes were not high. Gaius had told him how Merlin had refused an examination. He was hoping if there were injuries, some of the mystery would be solved as his mind couldn't help but conclude terrible things. Merlin looked thinner and weaker but what scared Arthur the most was the emptiness in Merlin's eyes, unless they were piercing and cold. How Merlin could look like that one moment and then embrace him and smile in the next was beyond him.

Never mind Merlin's very unusual attire, which he decided to address. "What in God's name are you wearing, Merlin?" he asked mockingly, reaching out to pull at the tunic he was wearing. It was very thick and soft, but he thought it must itch like mad.

It looked like Merlin almost took it well, the side of his mouth twitching slightly. But then he grew sombre once more and stared at Arthur again with those cold eyes. "You wanted to talk, Sire?"

Merlin maintained a tone of politeness and even called him sire, yet Arthur suddenly never felt so young, so immersed in the unknown and felt like berating himself for trying to keep the subject light. He felt like a silly child while Merlin was the adult, here to give him a stern talking to. And then Arthur felt ridiculous for feeling such a way – he was the King, he was older than Merlin and usually Merlin was the one who wasted time, prattling on about nonsense. He wondered what on earth it was exactly that made Merlin so intimidating all of a sudden.

"Very well," Arthur conceded. "I know it might be hard for you, Merlin. But you were missing for weeks. I want you to tell me what happened."

Merlin instantly dropped his gaze to the table and said nothing, but he seemed to be collecting his thoughts.

"You don't have to tell me everything at once," Arthur told him, as gentle as he could. It had been a suggestion from Gwen and he was suddenly grateful for her advice, because it seemed to pacify Merlin somewhat.

"All right," Merlin agreed, fidgeting with his nails but his eyes were darting up to Arthur's every few seconds as he spoke. "It was a normal day. I was out collecting herbs for Gaius and I was… attacked."

"Do you know who it was?" Arthur asked when Merlin said nothing more.

Merlin shook his head and then a simple fear clouded his eyes. "They were bandits. I don't think they were working for anyone. They just stole and…" His voice turned shaky as he trailed off.

Arthur nodded in sympathy, irked to know nothing of who did this to Merlin, but relieved that he was talking all the same. "Then what happened?"

It took a few moments for Merlin to collect himself and speak again. "I don't know why exactly but they decided to take me along with them. For a bit of fun, I suppose. There were other prisoners."

Merlin seemed to be thinking hard of what to say, so Arthur waited silently.

"I was with them for… a while." He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. "There was an attack, I don't know who by. I managed to escape during the fighting. The other prisoners weren't so lucky."

Cold stone anger was seeping through Arthur as he listened. He couldn't imagine what was done to Merlin to take the bright, foolish servant he knew and change him so much. He clenched his fists, but urged himself to relax. Gwen had also advised to withhold such reactions from Merlin, he needed to be calm and strong for his sake.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," he spoke quietly as his friend stared silently at the table. His brow was creased a little as if thinking hard or in pain. He knew that was enough for now. "We can discuss more at another time, perhaps. Despite your little nap earlier you still look rather terrible. You should rest."

Merlin looked up, as if he had something pressing he still wanted to say, but seemed to change his mind. He nodded then stood. "Yes, Sire."

"And Merlin. You know you don't need to address me that way when we're alone," Arthur reminded him. In fact, he had never explicitly told Merlin not to do so, but he appreciated it. It never felt appropriate to, he was the King after all. But Merlin could turn frustratingly formal when he was angry or annoyed at Arthur, so he hoped that he hadn't grieved Merlin in any way.

The man in question seemed to take it in good faith, however, as he gave a small smile – the first one he'd seen since the courtyard. "Of course, Arthur." Still, he gave a quick bow and then made his way out.

As Arthur sat listening to Merlin's footsteps fade away, tapping his finger on the table, he began processing Merlin's words. It appeared they had nothing to go on, nothing to tell them who exactly was responsible for Merlin's capture, not even who was responsible for the bandit's defeat. He found it strange that such a group with prisoners weren't found by his patrols before, but concluded they must have left Camelot's border. If Merlin knew at all where he was taken, that may help, so Arthur made a mental note to ask him in the future.

However, the longer he stayed there, the more his brow wrinkled, thinking about the whole ordeal. He had since calmed his anger and he tried not to think too hard about what was done to his friend. But the whole situation still seemed off. Merlin's explanation was so simple and very close to what he would have guessed, now that he thought about it, but it hadn't given him any details. And then there was the fact that Merlin didn't want to go back to Camelot for some reason, somehow wouldn't trust Leon. He felt there was still a huge piece to the puzzle missing, a factor that would easily explain Merlin's behaviour to his friends, and Gaius, who he saw as family. Either he was missing something, or Merlin was lying.

Arthur quickly realised and wondered why on earth he was doubting his friend.

He suppressed a shiver thinking about the coldness in Merlin's eyes.

* * *

Merlin took his time heading back. He had gotten lost on the way to Arthur's chamber; the quick way he used to take gone from his mind and he couldn't rely on muscle memory either. It had given him the impulse to rush which he found disconcerting. Merlin didn't rush anywhere anymore. So in retaliation, Merlin dawdled on his way back through the relatively empty hallways; it was late at night and only guards were present.

He felt the conversation with Arthur had gone well. Merlin had also believed that lying to Arthur again might verge on the impossible, but once he got started it became easier. Merlin was very adept at lying, knowing that the simplest expression can match well the correct tone of voice. And Arthur seemed to have taken it all in, never suspecting a thing.

Of course, he would be compelled to tell him more as the days went on, something he could figure out later. After catching up on some sleep, he was planning a few steps to find out more about this supposed time travel. He was still having random realisations of reality that he couldn't quite grasp– that he was back here, in Camelot, with Arthur - but they were fleeting. Mostly, he functioned as normal, just experiencing bouts of nostalgia every now and then.

When he finally arrived back in Gaius' chambers, Merlin was sure the old man would be asleep. Instead he was sitting on the bench, waiting for him. Merlin instantly felt the frustrated dread when he realised what he was holding.

"Merlin. What's this?" Gaius asked, holding up his Samsung, suspicion in his eyes.


	4. The Whistle of Wind - Chapter 4

This is not what Merlin needed right now.

His coat was on the table, rumpled and rifled with. How silly it was of him to leave it with a curious mind such as Gaius. Gaius stared expectantly at him, eyebrow raised threateningly, but he also tremored with uncertainty. Merlin knew he could not lie, not because he was incapable of doing so, but merely deciding that an ally would be beneficial under the circumstances. Gaius had proven himself trustworthy in ages past and Merlin could only hope he put aside his scepticism to aid Merlin once more.

However, he wished that this could have waited at least until the morning. The conversation with Arthur and the events of the day had drained him. Merlin knew he would probably have to give a lengthy explanation to the suspicious Gaius.

Giving Gaius a neutrally calm expression, Merlin strode over and plucked the phone out of his tense grip. Gaius' eyes never left Merlin and he in turn tried to soften his gaze.

"Did I ever tell you about the Fisher King?" Merlin asked. He could not recall whether he had related to Gaius what he had seen exactly and how much it had shaken him. Details of his life in Camelot were either vague or non-existent, but what Merlin did remember were impressions. The Fisher King's face exuded weariness and overwhelming knowledge and it was all due to his magic. Merlin could relate to it well.

"Of course you did," Gaius answered, growing more worried by the second.

"His magic kept him alive far longer than it should," he commented, wandering over to Gaius' worktable, examining the different potions and poisons he used to be so familiar with. "Until all he wanted was to die."

"What are you talking about, Merlin?" Gaius asked, with a hint of impatience. He was fearful, Merlin knew, since Gaius had more patience than anyone else he knew. And all of a sudden his stern voice was no longer fatherly, it was as if Gaius were dealing with a contender, an enemy, the name 'Merlin' a mockery on his lips.

"There is no need to fear me, Gaius," he assured him, giving a trusting stare before darting his eyes back to the vials on the table. "Right now, you are wondering who I really am. Wondering why I'm acting so differently; acting so distant. Why I can't remember as much as I should. So what if I'm not really who I say I am?"

Gaius stared indifferently, clearly on edge, as if he were about to use magic. Although Merlin would find his attempt somewhat amusing, he didn't want things to escalate. He would rush the truth out in an instant if he thought it made sense to himself, never mind Gaius.

"I assure you, I am Merlin, but not the one you know," he said, hoping his eyes for a moment reflected the ancient weariness he carried with him.

"Then who are you?" Gaius asked him, shock alighting his features, but Merlin could see that he was heartbroken at his words, without truly understanding what they meant yet. Gaius had lost his Merlin again, whether it was due to a supposed intruder or through the truth.

But when the question actually broke through to him, Merlin realised he didn't really have a true answer. If he weren't the Merlin from Camelot, which was a certainty, who exactly was he now? How could he explain or sum up fifteen centuries worth of change in one sentence? It didn't matter how much Gaius knew, Merlin concluded, he would never understand what he was telling him.

Sighing, Merlin raggedly scratched his head as his gaze wandered Gaius' chambers, pondering his words. "That's a difficult question to answer, Gaius," he answered with an exhale. "All I ask is you keep an open mind. I will not lie to you."

"All right," Gaius conceded warily. "What is the truth?"

Merlin sighed once more before facing him fully. "I'm from the future."

Gaius face instantly scrunched up in what Merlin narrowed down to exasperation and concern. "Merlin…"

He marched up to Gaius and waggled his phone about in the air. "Then how do you explain this? It's not sorcery," Merlin told him, pressing the home button and showing off his sky-filled lock-screen.

Gaius eyes were glued to his hand as his eyes widened but Merlin could tell he still didn't fully believe him.

"This is technology, Gaius. Far-off but there is no magic involved. And I know you haven't seen anything like it."

The old man stared up into Merlin's face, clearly trying to wrap his head around it, darting between concern and suspicion.

"I know it sounds impossible. But you told me you would put that doubt aside for me in a second," Merlin reminded him.

His words seemed to reach Gaius as his face fell. "But Merlin- time travel- it's unheard of!" Gaius stuttered.

"Yes," Merlin agreed, turning as he began to pace. "It raises more questions than it answers."

Gaius remained silent for a few moments, watching Merlin pace, mind processing what he heard. "And how do I know what you're telling me is the truth?"

Here came the scepticism again, something that vexed Merlin even in his younger years. It was understandable, of course, but he really needed some sleep. "I would tell you to ask me something only I would know but I'm afraid that probably wouldn't work," Merlin snapped at him, cursing his lack of memories.

"And how so?" Gaius asked, eyebrow raising once more. "If you're not really Merlin then how am I to believe a word of this?"

"First of all, I can tell you about my magic and my fate, or destiny, or whatever," Merlin said, impatience seeping through. "Not many know about my hidden identity; my other name."

"I suppose that's true," Gaius agreed, though still with disbelief. "But if Merlin had not been away for over a month, I might be more willing to believe you. Anyone could have learned his secrets."

Merlin could see it pained Gaius to imply that he was still out there somewhere, and perhaps his Merlin was, but found it far more troubling that Gaius wasn't even referring to him as Merlin anymore. "Look, I'm certainly not the same person I used to be, so you don't have to treat me as such. All I'm looking for is a little aid. I want to find a way to get back, to reverse what happened. But I need at least one person to know the truth."

"Nowhere in these tomes is there a spell for time travel," Gaius told him. "Perhaps you really are from the future but why you decided to disguise yourself as Merlin, I cannot fathom."

Merlin rubbed his brow in frustration, knowing he had lost Gaius for now. "I'm not sure how to make you believe me." Of course, Merlin could easily _make_ Gaius believe whatever came out of his mouth, but it was a practice he found distasteful.

Gaius frowned at him, with not as much venom as he expected. It was as if he wished he could believe Merlin. He understood. Believing him would be sacrificing a lot of hope that Merlin was still out there somewhere, untarnished, not whatever… he was now. For Gaius, it wasn't a simple case of belief but accepting the change that had occurred in the man he saw as a son.

"If you want me to believe you then perhaps you should explain certain discrepancies in your tale. For instance, if this future you came from is 'far-off'," Gaius said, nodding to the phone in Merlin's hand, "Then why would you pose as Merlin?"

Merlin chuckled sardonically, shaking his head in disappointment. "There are none so blind as those who will not see," he muttered under his breath. He stared down at the phone in his hand. "I already explained why, Gaius. The Fisher King is not the only one who cannot die."

He didn't bother checking Gaius' reaction, expecting raised eyebrows and even more uncertainty.

"You know what I can do, Gaius," Merlin said, imploring his belief. "You know I am more than just a sorcerer. And you can see what I am now."

"…Merlin?" Gaius asked warily, but at least he was willing to believe.

Merlin nodded, attempting to look young and lost like he used to, to give Gaius something to recognise. He couldn't be sure he succeeded, however.

"Merlin," Gaius said again though this time filled with relief. The man appeared to look much older beyond his years for an instant and he had to force his glassy eyes upon Merlin instead of darting anywhere else. "You've changed."

Merlin felt the soft expression flee from his face. It was relieving that Gaius could finally see and accept that now, more than he would admit.

Swallowing nervously, Gaius took him in, from his strange clothes to rugged appearance, looking more solemn as he did. "Merlin," Gaius spoke, voice uncharacteristically quiet. "H-how long…?"

"It's not important," Merlin stated, shaking his head. He made his way towards his room, glad that the conversation seemed to be resolved for now.

Inside, he searched around for his hiding place, recalling he kept his secret treasures under the floor. He heard Gaius' footsteps behind him.

"There," the old man pointed. Merlin followed his instructions, lifting the loose floorboard Gaius had indicated. Inside he found the Sidhe staff he had long ago abandoned, the nostalgic spell book that had been destroyed centuries ago, and a small wooden dragon figurine.

He clutched the piece of wood tenderly between his fingers, examining it closely. Merlin had completely forgotten about it, had lost it so long ago that it hurt to remember. And so the memories of his father that had been long since buried resurfaced as he took in the small dragon. The feel of the smooth wood was familiar as he recalled holding it long ago, basking in the knowledge that the wood was crafted and held in Balinor's hands. But along with most things he had treasured during his life in Camelot, it was hidden amongst the floorboards, a forbidden treasure that nagged at the back of his mind whenever he took it out, because it was no longer safe, someone could ask questions, his secrets wouldn't be _safe_.

Merlin placed the small dragon back where he found it with a surprising amount of care. He gave the spell book a quick stroke, feeling the interesting texture, before placing his phone alongside it, adding to his pile of secrecy. He fitted the floorboard and suddenly noticed that Gaius had been watching from the doorway the whole time. It prickled at his insides that he had lost his impeccable awareness of his surroundings, never mind the fact that Gaius had seen what was probably a tender moment.

But perhaps it was for the best, as Merlin could see that whatever doubt still remained in Gaius over Merlin's identity had been swept away at what he saw.

Brushing off what just happened, Merlin stood and began kicking his shoes off. "I told Arthur I was captured by bandits and not much more. If he comes asking, I'd appreciate it if you played along."

"Of course," Gaius agreed quietly. "I'll do as I always have."

Merlin tried to give him an appreciative smile, but he feared it came out more as a grimace.

"Merlin. If you're here now… what happened to the Merlin of this time?" The anticipation and fear was thick in Gaius' throat.

"Presumably he's still out there," Merlin answered, fixing his bed cover. "Or his disappearance was a reaction to my presence. Or maybe he's in the future. I don't know. I can't ever remember such a disappearance and I don't know how time travel works." He hoped that would be the end of the conversation as he was itching to get into bed and get started on his investigation in the morning.

Gaius nodded, anxious that they didn't know for certain. "I'll leave you to your sleep," Gaius told him, as if sensing his impatience. "I think we could both do with some rest."

And with that, Gaius turned, closing Merlin's door. He could hear his slow footsteps heading straight towards his bed. Perhaps Gaius needed more sleep than Merlin, to process all he had heard that night. Merlin was having a hard time dealing with it all, but for it to be uttered from his lips made it seem all the more ridiculous. As he stripped to his t-shirt and boxers, he sank down onto his bed, somewhat more carefully than the last time, and tried to wrap his head around the situation again. Doing this late at night made it seem even more surreal and he couldn't find the clarity he needed to realise the enormity of what happened. He thought about Gaius – about how much he couldn't remember him before and how it was as if the years between had never happened, now that he could see him again. He thought about Gwen, Leon, Gwaine and other faces he barely recognised but seemed to know him with fondness. It probably wouldn't be long before they looked at him as a stranger, when they realised the truth. He thought about Arthur. It was hard enough to deal with Arthur's sense of betrayal and anger, he remembered, when he revealed his magic. To try and explain the change Arthur saw in him now would be hurtful.

That was why he knew deep in his heart that he had to find a way back. If it was part of his destiny, he presumed that things would fall into place without his input. He had spent too long fighting it. On the other hand, if this was all a mistake, he would have to rectify it, not just for his friends' sake, but for his sanity.

Being back again, where it all started for him, made the centuries after seem false and unimportant. Merlin's gaze wandered over to the location of the hidden floorboard. On a whim, his eyes flashed gold and he heard the wood shift and then watched his phone float over to him. Catching it, Merlin unlocked it, eyes narrowing at the vicious light bearing down on him.

He swiped at the screens until he found his gallery and with a shaking thumb, clicked on the icon. Numerous images of Anna filled his screen, pictures of her smiling, out with friends, under trees. Her blue eyes were light and shaped like his, but shining in a way his own hadn't since youth. Her blond hair cascaded around her, much like her mother's did, and if he unfocused his eyes, Merlin could almost pretend it was her mother.

It was a bit of a pastime to watch Anna's life from afar. She had told him about her facebook account, which Merlin deemed unnecessary information, but one particularly lonely night urged him to check it, just the one time. Anna was the one who had gotten him this smartphone, otherwise he would probably still be using his old Nokia. He only carried a mobile for her sake after all and she had called him a dinosaur for protesting against a new one.

It was rare he even delved into these photos, but he wanted to carry a piece of her life with him, see what she looked like living without him near, watch how happy she could be. So he downloaded a collection, ignoring the rest of her profile and comments from people he couldn't care less about. Merlin hadn't looked at these for months and months, but seeing her face was a reminder that Merlin didn't want to forget the future where he came from, didn't want to disregard it despite returning to the one place that felt like home.

No matter how strange it was to be browsing on his phone on his old bed in Camelot, seeing a piece of his future grounded him, relaxed the tense muscles above his eyes and around his jaw, making the whole situation seem more real. The future had happened, he had gotten there, and now he was back.

His eyes growing more tired at the obtrusive light, Merlin turned the screen off and very quickly fell asleep, phone still in hand.

* * *

Anna was struggling to keep her eyes open. She was being incredibly stupid. Driving all the way back to London without sleep was definitely not a good idea, despite her increasing nerves. It took her longer than usual, making sure she didn't crash and die. And to make things worse, the traffic going into London was definitely worse than it was when leaving.

Anna was heading for her apartment once she reached the bustling city, but then made a snap decision to visit her father's instead. It would be quieter there and maybe she would find him, or some clues to his whereabouts, she hoped. Finding a useful spell would be good right about now.

Standing and slamming the car door shut proved to be a tremendous task and Anna only just remembered in time to lock the doors behind her. Anna climbed the steps up to her father's dingy flat, hoping that she somehow found him there, despite Anna being his ride. He was _Merlin_ wasn't he? Perhaps he rode a unicorn, or even teleported.

She was hysterical enough to find the thought extremely laughable. She really needed some sleep.

The keys shook in her hand as she searched for the right one, and she burst into the apartment after managing to unlock the door.

It was as empty as she expected.

Anna walked around, looking at her father's minimalist décor with little interest. His apartment always reminded her of a very old man, which made sense she supposed, but without the old-fashioned rugs or grandfather clocks standing in the corner. There was very little apart from large bookshelves and furniture for comfort, a long soft-looking couch with an old footstool, a tiny CRT TV that sat shoved in the corner, covered in dust. It was easy to see his routine, the objects that were in daily use and those that were neglected but there just in case.

It was depressing, watching the quiet apartment, the dull walls and the dust floating in the air with the aid of sunlight. Staying here every day would drive her mad and she wondered just how her father managed it, and not for the first time.

She couldn't allow herself to feel too sorry for him though. Anna had tried to add some excitement to his life, to introduce some flexibility to his all-important routine. But he had ignored her attempts. This was his choice. Anna couldn't understand it but she would respect it.

Wandering into his bedroom, Anna eyed the double bed with longing but quickly decided that it would be weird. She could smell her father in these walls and as Anna had never grown up with it, it wasn't as comforting or as nostalgic as it should be. After quickly searching through the cupboards for a blanket, she kicked her boots off and threw her jacket on the footstool, collapsing onto the inviting couch in the living-room. Sleep came quickly, unsettling her with strange and urgent dreams of running in the forest, fluttering her eyelids rapidly.

What felt like days later, Anna blinked her eyes open, feeling refreshed but joints aching and tense. It was dark outside but the room was illuminated slightly with street lights outside. Groaning, she noticed the fair amount of drool she left on her father's couch.

With tired muscles, Anna twirled off the couch and crawled over to the footstool, reaching for her phone in her jacket. She wished she could move objects with her mind as easily as her father.

The screen flashed, hurting her eyes. It was almost three in the morning; a crappy time to wake but she didn't want to sleep anymore. Faintly, she wondered what her father was doing at that moment, resting her chin on the stool and randomly browsing through her phone.

Once she felt more awake, Anna stood and wrapped the blanket tighter around her, cursing the biting chill. Did her father always live like this? She could imagine him holed up reading, oblivious to the cold around him, shivering like mad. Anna cast her gaze around and was glad to find the fireplace.

" _Forbearnan_ ," Anna whispered, feeling her magic come alive as flames flickered into view. She relished the feeling, as always, and couldn't help a little smile.

Her joy left quickly when she peeked into the bedroom again, with only a tiny bit of hope that her father would be in there sleeping like nothing was wrong. He was nowhere to be found, and she had received zero messages. She had to question why she cared so much, why she could feel fear seeping into her gut with the knowledge that something must be fiercely wrong.

If her father was gone, never again could she light a fire like that in front of company as if it was something mundane but amazing. Anna wouldn't even be able to discuss her magic with anyone freely without hints of disbelief and fear. Her father was immortal – she had assumed he'd always be there. She didn't know quite what to do with his absence.

Blanket still wrapped around her, she tried to warm herself from more than just the chill in the air. Heading into the kitchen, Anna quickly made herself some coffee, eager for the heat and caffeine. She might as well make use of her father's books while she was here, research more into these magical anomalies. She had a few more hours before she probably needed to go to work. She had taken a weekend off, so it probably wouldn't be well-received to take the next day off, no matter how tired she was. There were still two days until the magic started acting up again in Glastonbury, which gave her little time to actually find out what was going on, never mind the fact she had been researching it in her spare time for months. This time, however, she had access to more informative texts and possessed greater motivation.

The mug was warm and relaxing in her hands as she made her way into the bedroom. Merlin possessed many books but she knew he kept the juicy stuff where he slept.

His bookcase spanned almost to the ceiling and although the vast amount of books was intriguing, Anna was at a loss where to start. Only a few spines indicated what they were about and if it were any other situation, her inner historian would have marvelled at the ancient tomes. Some she was reluctant to touch, as if they would fall apart between her fingers, but when she found a thin, dark red leather journal, she sat on the bed, placing the coffee on the side table. She could tell it was quite old, but not nearly the oldest and was relatively in good condition.

It was surprising to find her father's messy handwriting within, some pages neater than others, and some that just didn't make sense. There were also drawings of strange circles, ones she instinctively knew must be related to magic, but indecipherable to her. Anna brushed her fingers along the rough parchment, feeling her father's handwriting, knowing his hands had held this as he wrote a very long time ago. She could see desperation in some of his words, most of them listing test results for something and how important it was that it worked.

She sensed what she held was incredibly important in some way, even relating to previous magical anomalies, but after an hour of trying to make out his words, Anna gave up, giving it a final quick scan, and then placed it back on the bookshelf. The apartment was warmer now so she folded the blanket up, placing it on the bed. It was only then that a certain object caught her eye.

Poking from underneath the bed was something dark and wooden, and although it was hidden, it was calling out, desperate to be noticed. Anna knelt down and found a small, ornate chest, decorated with wooden swirls and golden locks. As soon as she touched the wood to lift it out, Anna could feel the chest brimming with magic, dancing across her fingers and seemingly testing her own magic's reaction, which was curious but receptive. It was strange feeling something that was usually dormant without her conscious thought, reacting so instinctively to something foreign. It made her heart flutter and her hands numb.

The chest scraped lightly against the wooden floor as she pulled. A part of her wanted to quickly open it and get it over with, but her instincts urged her to handle it with care. As her thumb touched the latch, the magic seemed to instantly calm within her and the chest, almost as a sort of acceptance. The instinct to be slow fled her and Anna quickly opened the lid, wondering what on earth could be inside.

The chest was full of parchments, some with the same handwriting she had just read, some with parts of sketches she couldn't discern. Little objects littered on top and she wasn't sure what to investigate first, or even if she should. This must be her father's most private objects, and he was already extremely sensitive about his bedroom. He would probably have a fit if he knew how obtrusive she was being.

But he had inexplicably disappeared, so Anna had already convinced herself she could go rifling through his things. It seemed whatever magic was protecting the chest accepted her, now that she thought about it. It still reigned strong but welcoming to her relief.

Shuffling some of the objects, Anna pulled out a pile of parchment, noticing more scrambled research notes, seemingly desperate and excitable. There were also sketches of faces, some given up halfway, perhaps out of frustration. One that caught her eye was of a young face, wide eyes that reminded her of her father. It was the most detailed and concise, though the piece of parchment seemed crumpled and old. Anna placed them back in the chest as carefully as she could, feeling out of place for looking at such a drawing.

One of the objects was a small framed black and white photo of her father, looking a bit older than he did now. Anna stared for a while, taking in his indifferent expression, so familiar but far away from her. A tiny wooden box attracted her attention. It was carved with a beautiful design and she couldn't help but run her fingers across it before opening. Inside was a small ring that for some reason, Anna didn't feel like wearing. Next to it was a large metal coin that practically vibrated with magic.

Putting aside any caution, Anna touched it, and like a shock, she could feel the magic flowing through her. It was startling, but not painful or overwhelming, so she clasped it in her hand as her skin prickled with energy, her eyes blinking wildly, and soon enough, the reaction subsided and she was able to think clearly again. Examining the coin closely, she made out the shape of a dragon and wondered the age and origin of such a thing, and why it had such a powerful magical reaction.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden faint whisper in her mind, quiet enough not to frighten her but distinctive enough for her to dart her head around, investigating the rest of the bedroom. But she knew she was alone.

_Anna…_

She definitely just heard her name being whispered, and louder this time. It was after the fourth time hearing the alien voice in her head that Anna stood and whisked her head around, eyes wide. It felt so intrusive to hear but she didn't feel as scared as she would expect, just a little freaked.

"Who's there?" she asked, not really expecting an answer but feeling silly all the same. Her voice didn't carry much but it pierced the silence of the empty apartment. The warm glow from the fireplace leaked on the floor as she gazed through to the living room, the faint crackling of the fire suddenly twitching her ears.

_Anna!_

With a shock, Anna dropped the coin with the increase of volume. It wasn't until she did so that she felt a distinctive spark of magic within her disappear and silence once again governed her mind.

She waited a few moments, the presence gone from her mind, but her nerves unaware. After a few motionless moments, she calmed down and collapsed onto the bed, wondering if her life would get any stranger. Her energy seemed to have ebbed and with that, the task of studying what she could find seemed far too difficult. The bookcase was looming over her and if she had already looked through her father's most private possessions and found nothing to aid her, she doubted she would find anything else. The only clue was the coin resting near her on the bed but it hadn't sounded like her father's voice. She could have attributed it to either gender, but if she had to, she would say it was female.

Leaning on her elbows, Anna stared at the mythical coin, weighing her options. She doubted it was dangerous if it was something Merlin treasured, yet he wouldn't have let her anywhere near his private possessions if he was here.

But he _wasn't_ here, and both worry and curiosity were begging her to investigate further, to clasp her hand around the coin again and never let go.

Sighing with trepidation, she grabbed the coin, hoping it didn't possess some withered soul or something equally morbid. Again, she felt the magical energy with a jolt, but it wasn't as shocking as the first time. It felt welcoming and somewhat relieved, if she could attribute emotions to it.

It only took a few seconds to hear her name whispered in her mind again.

Anna crossed her legs on the bed, suddenly a little excited to be communicating with something unknown. Closing her eyes, she tried to relax as she retreated into her mind – she assumed that's where she'd find the source of the voice.

It definitely helped her hear more clearly, though it merely continued saying her name. The voice did sound female, however, and also otherworldly – she couldn't think of another that sounded quite like it.

_Can you hear me?_ Anna thought clearly, hoping it would be distinguished amongst her multitude of thoughts.

_Come,_ the voice beckoned after a moment of silence.

Anna exhaled in excitement – she had gotten a reply! Inside her mind… _Where are you?_ she thought back.

_Emrys…_

Anna furrowed her brow in confusion. Over and over again, her father's title reverberated in her mind, but faintly as if it were struggling to break through.

_Come… Emrys…_

_I don't understand_ , she thought in frustration. Of course a mysterious voice speaking in her head would be vague.

_Dinas Emrys…_

With that, Anna felt the connection in her mind swiftly close and she opened her eyes. Her forehead ached dimly but the pain felt distant. She couldn't feel a presence in her mind at all anymore. The last two words came with a burst of volume and clarity, to the extent she could see the words clearly in her mind.

With renewed energy, Anna grabbed her phone from her pocket and began googling in earnest, gaining instant results. She was lucky it proved to be a location not only specific, but entrenched in Arthurian lore. It was finally a clue, one gained through cryptic means, but Anna would take what she got.

She had to wonder, however, what was her father doing in Wales? She assumed that's where he'd be – Anna couldn't imagine the coin being misleading if it was found in his chest. Anna lifted the coin close to her eye again, examining the dragon. With a strange urge, she quickly sniffed it, taking in its metallic and ancient smell. She could imagine this being in Merlin's hands for centuries, treasured almost, though she could not see the immediate value in such an object. Perhaps it was kept out of sentiment, although Anna did not want to ponder too much over it. She could acknowledge that sometimes her father's experiences went over her head, and she probably didn't know the half of it, considering the amount he kept from her.

Huffing, Anna quickly pocketed the coin, wanting to keep it near, and quickly rummaged through the chest again, seeing if there was anything else of worth. The sky was beginning to brighten outside but she felt she had so much to do, feeling the urge to act immediately and waste no time. The voice had sounded mystical but urgent, and Anna knew that the disappearance of her father was no trifling matter.

Besides, the voice must have belonged to someone else magical, or someone who at least knew something. Anna was eager to investigate.

Despite questioning the craziness of heading straight to Wales and the slight bags she could feel forming under her eyes, Anna put on her coat and shoes with haste, put out the fire, and gave the empty apartment one last glance. She left, locking the door behind her and jingling her car keys prematurely as she dashed down the stairs, her hurried steps creating a large echo.

She needed a few things from her place first, Anna thought, and she would need to call work to her detriment. Anna couldn't bring herself to care though; with this ridiculous plan, an excitement filled her, a sense of importance. She could feel the bump of the coin in her jeans' pocket and she finally had a destination in mind. One that was at least travelable by car.

By the time Anna reached her car and slammed the door shut, her stomach was rumbling and she wrinkled her nose in distaste. An early breakfast would do, and definitely a quick shower before she headed out.

* * *

When Merlin emerged from his bedroom, his eyes were still bleary and his muscles tired, but he felt more well-rested than he had in years. He had slept soundly which was a rare occurrence, and couldn't help but feel grateful at the lack of disruption.

He hadn't slept too late, but Gaius was awake and ready with breakfast, to his surprise. Merlin had predicted the old man to sleep most of the morning after the previous late night, but Gaius always was up and active, he suddenly recollected, no matter the circumstances.

Gaius was already eating from his bowl but stood to fill one for Merlin as he walked to the table. The slop of the porridge being spooned into the bowl sounded absurdly loud in the chambers, and Merlin sat waiting for a rather reluctant breakfast. His mouth watered at the thought of a roll and sausage, as opposed to the slimy gruel Gaius put before him. But food was food, and especially in this time period, he supposed he was lucky to receive three meals a day. If it weren't for Gaius, he probably would've forgotten to eat the day before.

The old man was seemingly finding it difficult to look at him, and Merlin didn't feel obligated to fill the tense silence. He briefly wondered if Gaius awoke that morning with a change of heart, realising how ridiculous everything he had heard was despite it being the truth. But when Gaius eventually gave Merlin a quick glance, it was of a sad curiosity – wondering what had happened to the boy he knew. Merlin could see he still believed him, no matter how much it hurt.

"The King will want another audience with you today," Gaius told him, breaking the silence.

Merlin quickly finished his porridge, forcing the flavourless substance down his throat. "Presumably," he agreed. "I was planning to research as much as I can."

Gaius frowned. "You're looking for the spell that sent you here?" he questioned.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "There is no such spell, I'm sure of it. But I need something like it. As most of my magic's instinctive now, it's been a long time since I invented a spell, never mind read any spell books."

"You _invented_ spells?" Gaius asked, with an impressed raised eyebrow.

"Not for a long time," Merlin repeated, standing and dislodging bits of oat from the back of his mouth with his tongue. "Like I said, most spells come to me without words, but there are some things that need an incantation or a process, especially if the spell is complicated."

"Oh, I see," Gaius replied, looking as if it was all too big for him. "Well, perhaps you want to rid yourself of your strange clothes, Merlin. I won't be the only one who's noticed how odd they look." He eyed his t-shirt and jeans.

Merlin gave a grunt in response as he inspected Gaius' pitiful library. As he guessed, he wouldn't find anything of worth here – the books on magic were scarce, hidden away and elementary at best. Luckily, Merlin was sure he remembered a secret collection somewhere in the castle library. If he were to find any useful information, it would be there.

"So what do you plan to do once you find a similar spell?" Gaius asked. Merlin hadn't realised the old man had been watching him, expecting him to fill him in with his plan, like he used to.

"I can change it as required. Experiment a little," he explained.

"And what if it doesn't work?" Gaius proposed sternly. "What are you going to tell Arthur?"

"Arthur doesn't need to know a thing," Merlin assured him. "Do you really think he'd believe any of it?"

"Then you'll continue your days as Arthur's manservant?" Gaius asked ludicrously.

Merlin bit the inside of his mouth as he considered Gaius' words. If he couldn't find a way back, he doubted he could continue staying here, not under the current pretences anyway. Some form of the truth would come out eventually. They'd quickly realise that a month's disappearance couldn't possibly be responsible for the drastic change in their friend.

"If there's a chance you cannot return then you have to at least play along a little, Merlin," Gaius implored him. "If Arthur found out where you came from, it's highly likely he'd learn about your magic too."

"I know, Gaius."

"Then I'd advise you to change out of your clothes and resume some of your duties while you research."

The idea of scrubbing floors and polishing armour did not appeal to him at all, but he supposed he could rough it for a time. There was wisdom in Gaius' words – it wouldn't bode well to act completely out of character. He had determined that this was real and therefore anything he did had consequences, including Arthur knowing about his magic. Though it broke his heart to tell Arthur his secret the first time, he still believed that the time was right despite it being too late to affect change. Telling him now could provide disastrous consequences for this time's Merlin.

Merlin gave Gaius a quick nod to let him know he agreed and made his way into his old bedroom. He quickly changed, frowning at the itchy and rough material that made up his ragged clothing. The neckerchief felt constricting, but putting it on ached with familiarity and he found he didn't quite hate the scratchy fabric as much as he wanted to. His old clothes were looser than he would have liked, being quite baggy when he was used to tighter fittings. But he suspected he was underweight anyhow.

He shaved in Gaius workroom, figuring he would look more like his past self. When he was done, Gaius gave him an approving nod, and for the first time he felt he could allow the shift in positions – allow Gaius to treat him like a son, like someone who didn't know better. He wasn't sure how he looked but his new appearance seemed to give Gaius some assurance.

Merlin figured he could get some research done first and then talk to Arthur about resuming his duties, considering he probably had the day off and wasn't expected any time soon. He was just making his way to the door when Gaius cleared his throat behind him.

"Merlin," Gaius called quietly, unsure and unnaturally timid.

Halting his steps to the door, Merlin listened.

"How long have you lived?" Gaius asked, dreading the answer.

"It doesn't matter. Longer than I should. Do you believe me?"

"When I woke up this morning, your whole story felt to me like a dream. I could scarcely believe it. I sat contemplating what to do before you opened your door and came out." Merlin heard him sigh. "My doubts scattered as soon as I saw your eyes again. Eyes much older than my own. Eyes reminiscent to the Great Dragon himself."

Merlin suppressed a sardonic chuckle, being compared to Kilgarrah. The Great Dragon had passed long ago, soon after Arthur's death. It had been long since he missed him, but Merlin knew that if anyone possessed answers to this dilemma, it would be him. He planned to pay him a visit that night under the veil of darkness once he learned of his prospects.

Merlin headed onwards, out of the chambers, before he remembered he never responded. As long as Gaius believed him, he would be of use. He already pointed out that Merlin should play his part somewhat, and it was good advice. Just like old times, Gaius grounded him, telling him what to do in times of uncertainty or crisis. Despite knowing the truth, he still seemed to accept him and desired to help. Merlin tried to ignore the feeling of warmth arising in his chest at the thought. He would be alone again soon, whether he travelled back to the future or lived another century, leaving those he'd known behind in the dirt.


End file.
